


Agape

by WitchInTraining



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Angst, F/M, Greek Forms of Love, Jamie's Daughter, Love, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-21 08:36:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11940390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchInTraining/pseuds/WitchInTraining
Summary: Delia's father had always told her stories about Jack Frost and the Guardians of Childhood, but since her fifth Christmas, she'd lost all faith in them. All that changes when the Boogeyman appears in one of her nightmares and takes her father hostage, forcing her to face the ghosts of her past in a quest to save her most important person.





	1. Nightmares and Myths

Delia Bennett didn’t believe in Santa Clause. She hated the people filling the streets on last minute present shopping; she hated the overly priced fashion in the front windows; she hated the fake cheerfulness that filled the streets of her hometown these days. Frankly, she hated Christmas. As she dug her keys out of her handbag, she grunted unhappily. Her bottom still hurt from when she’d slipped on the random bit of ice that led up to her house’s door.

‘Stupid winter,’ she murmured and entered. ‘Dad, I’m home!’

The house she and her father lived in was old and far too spacey for just the two of them, but Delia would never dare to tell him so. Her Dad had inherited the typically suburban building from his deceased parents, since his sister lived almost at the other end of the country. It was fairly worn, the terrace bleached from the many summers it had withstood, the inside creaky and rather dusty. Between the two of them, there seemed to be more dust accumulating than they could manage to clean out. They even found the odd pile of sand, thought their hometown was a far way from the nearest beach. Delia knew it was too much; too big, too old, too instable should there ever be a hurricane. She knew, but she couldn’t help loving the place. It was where she’d grown up, the old walls littered with pictures of her and her father and, occasionally, her mother. The furniture was cluttered here and there, and didn’t match at all, but neither she nor her father minded that. In fact, it was one of their favourite pastimes to snoop through the nearest garage sale and acquire the next priceless piece to join their home. Delia took off her shoes and stacked them neatly into the wooden cabinet in the corridor.

‘Dad?’ She called again, certain he was home. Most probably, he was in his little shed in the garden that he liked to occupy even in the deepest winter. Delia looked out of the kitchen window into the backyard and, sure enough, the light in the hut shone brightly. She sighed, smiling, and decided to boil some water in the kettle.

She knocked on the shed’s door and it creaked open. Even though a small radiator stood in the middle of the room it was still pretty cold and Delia was surprised to see that her father was working on yet another of his intricate ice sculptures. How he did it, she had no idea, but they never seemed to melt in the hut, always maintaining their beautiful sheen and mesmerizing structure that caught the light and scattered into millions of tiny specks that covered the wooden ceiling. Her father had caught sight of her and rushed over, smiling.

‘Delia, sweetheart,’ he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek all the while relieving her of the tray she was holding and setting it on the table. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m good, thanks, Dad.’ Delia smiled. Her father was the most loving person she knew, always affectionate, always caring, always putting his own needs after hers.

‘How was school?’ He passed her one of the mugs of steaming cocoa she had brought from the house and she accepted gratefully. She blew on her drink as her dad took the other cup.

‘Yeah, alright.’ She shrugged. ‘School, you know…’

‘Yes, I know.’ He chuckled. ‘Nothing like your extra college lectures, right?’

‘You know they’re far more interesting!’ She protested, taking a sip from her cocoa and burning her tongue in the process. Delia had earned a part-time college scholarship from her town’s college as a prize for winning the last science contest by a large margin. She had always been proud of her rational mind, as it was one of the things that connected her to her mother still. Her dream was to become a neuroscientist and the beginner’s course she was attending at college was both intriguing and challenging and Delia absolutely loved it.

‘Anyway, Dad, what is it you’re making this time, huh?’ Delia walked around her father to get a better look at the sculpture he was making. It was a little taller than her and had a vaguely human shape. She could make out the clothes the figure was ‘wearing’: a hoodie and torn jeans, no shoes. The head, however, was yet to be given the details, but from the overall shape she concluded it would turn out to be a teenage boy.

‘It’s Jack Frost,’ her Dad said, smiling wistfully as Delia’s head spun around to scowl at him.

‘Dad,’ she complained. ‘Not again!’

‘Sweetheart, just because you cannot see him, doesn’t mean he doesn’t exist.’ He took a few steps towards her and gently touched the ice sculpture.

‘Yes, Dad, that’s exactly what it means!’ Delia rolled her eyes. She loved her father to pieces, but his constant rambling about Jack Frost, Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Sandman and the Tooth Fairy drove her up the wall. She had believed him when she was young, listening in rapture when he told his stories of the Guardians. She remembered her mother laughing gently and telling him not to fill Delia’s ears with these fantastic stories, but Delia had loved them. The winter when she was five years old, however, all her faith in these so-called Guardians disappeared and had never since returned.

‘Nonsense.’ Her Dad kept tracing the icy figure under his fingertips. ‘Do you stop believing in the moon when the sun comes up? Or in the sun-’

‘“When the clouds cover it?” Yes, Dad, that’s what you’ve always told me. And I will reply what I always reply: I believe in nothing unless scientifically proven. Anyway.’ She sighed and walked to the door, the thought of her foolish father to smothering for her to bear. ‘I’ll start cooking dinner, I’ll call you when I’m done.’

Her father stopped her as she was about to leave and kissed her head.

‘Thank you, sweetheart,’ he said and closed the door after her.

She ran her hand through her hair and stared up into the starry sky. She just couldn’t stay mad at him, no matter what he did.

That night she had the strangest dream. She was five years old and her father was playing with her in the snow, building a snowman, throwing snowballs… there was a boy there, a teenager, laughing, beckoning her to throw harder, showing her how to make the perfect snowball… then the boy threw his snowball at a giant rabbit carrying a boomerang. The rabbit got angry, retaliated and tried to hit the two of them with a pile of snow, but his projectile missed. Behind her, a woman’s voice chattered in mock anger.

‘Oh, just you wait, Bunny, this means revenge!’ She resembled a hummingbird with her colourful feather dress and her wings.

‘Oh, ho ho!’ A voice called from overhead, a deep, booming sound. ‘Do not start without me!’ Suddenly a giant sleigh stooped from the sky and a round, bearded man, dressed in red stepped onto the snow to join them. Just as he approached them a giant golden ball hit him in the face, then crumbled to dust. The bearded man blinked in surprise, then laughed heartily. ‘I see Sandy is also here.’

Delia looked behind her. A very round golden spirit was floating in the air. She rubbed her eyes in wonder, couldn’t believe what she saw. The spirit seemed to be made entirely of golden sand.

Another snowball hit the teenager square in the face. He looked surprised for a second, then grinned.

‘Jamie!’ He turned to her father. ‘That was naughty!’

‘Oh?’ Her father returned the mischievous grin. ‘I thought you were the one leading the naughty list.’

‘That’s not wrong,’ the bearded man confirmed in a strong Russian accent.

‘ _Really_?’ The voice was like oil and ice at the same time, smooth, but incredibly cold.

A shiver ran down Delia’s spine and even the five year old her knew that this was an evil so strong she couldn’t possibly think of defying it. She looked up at her father and his friends and saw the shock and fear in all of their faces. Then the teenager’s face hardened.

‘Pitch,’ he said. ‘What do you want?’

The figure he was speaking to was white-faced, but clad in a cloth so black it seemed to nullify the light of the full moon that had illuminated the night. His eyes were full of rage and madness and suddenly breathing became very hard for Delia. The teenager took a step forward her, spreading his left hand protectively in front of her.

‘Oh,’ the black man snickered. ‘You think I’m after _her_? No, you fool, the girl is a lost cause! You can only meet her in dreams like these, created by him.’ He pointed at the golden sand spirit. ‘She doesn’t believe.’

‘Then whaddaya want, punk?’ The giant rabbit asked angrily.

‘What do you think?’ The black man slowly walked around their front lane, picked a leave off the big holly bush and sneered as it withered between his fingertips. He fixed his dark eyes on her father.

‘Daddy…’ Delia reached up to grab her fathers sleeve, and he placed a protective arm around her shoulders.

‘Leave, Pitch, this isn’t your dream!’ He said firmly.

The black figure, Pitch, tutted. ‘Jamie, Jamie, the last light…’ He sighed. ‘Indeed this isn’t my dream.’ He sneered, then fixed her eyes on Delia. ‘It’s _her_ nightmare!’

Delia wanted to scream, but not a sound left her mouth. All around them shadows erupted, spinning ever closer, forcing the seven of them to stick together.

‘Daddy, what’s happening!?’ Delia cried, desperate to wake up. ‘If this is a dream, I don’t want it anymore!’

‘Sweetheart.’ Her father’s face was filled with worry.

‘Don’t worry, Delia!’ The teenager said firmly. ‘We’ll protect you.’ He spread his arms, and Delia waited for something to happen, but absolutely nothing changed. ‘What?’ The teenager looked panicked. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Jack…’ Her father looked shocked.

Pitch laughed, somewhere to Delia’s left, though she couldn’t see him through the wall of black shadows that was closing in on them.

‘It’s the girl’s dream, Jack Frost, and she doesn’t believe in you. In here, you are powerless.’

Delia’s fingertips were numb, her tongue leaden. She didn’t know what was going on anymore. The dark shadows swelled and rose, then crashed down on them. She screamed and covered her face. It was a cold like she’d never experienced before, not the one you could fight with a warm cup of hot cocoa, but a cold that froze your bones and drove your thoughts out of your brain. After a short moment, the cold subsided and Delia opened eyes that she hadn’t realised she’d closed to a once again bright night, illuminated by the moon. The five magical beings and Pitch were gone, and so was her father. Delia was all alone in the world.

Her eyes flew open and she stared at the ceiling. Her forehead was clammy and her pyjamas stuck to her skin. She was breathing heavily, still paralysed by her nightmare. She tried to take a few unsteady breaths and spoke up, her voice resonating in her bedroom.

‘It’s okay,’ she whispered. ‘It was just a nightmare, nothing to be scared of.’ She forced herself to sit up, her fingers still shaking. ‘Just a nightmare…’

She got to her feet, forcing herself, angry now, to descend to the kitchen for a glass of water. She was in the hallway just by the steps when an unusually cold breeze blew through her hair. She let out a short shriek and immediately covered her mouth. She didn’t accept herself to be afraid of some fantastic creature. She closed her eyes and took five deep breaths. A little calmer, she changed her direction and wandered to her father’s chamber.

‘Just to make sure,’ she told herself. ‘He’s still going to be there.’

She grabbed the door handle and silently slipped into the room, careful not to wake her father. His sheets lay peacefully on his bed, a glass of water on his bedside table. Her father, however, was nowhere to be seen. Delia took a sharp breath, panic creeping back into her throat. This was impossible. There was no sign of struggle, nothing that indicated her father’s absence at all, except the fact that he was, indeed, gone. She balled her fists and sprinted out of the room. The bathroom, certainly he’d be there. No such luck. In this manner Delia inspected every room in the house, growing more desperate by the minute until, nearly out of her mind, she ran into the backyard, and nearly crashed into her father’s ice sculpture as she scrambled into the garden hut. The room, just like the others had been, was awfully empty. She could feel tears tugging at the corners of her eyes and blinked them away. No, she thought, there was a rational reason for all that. She turned on the light in the hut and looked around, searching for a hint, something, anything… then her gaze fell upon the sculpture. It almost appeared floating in the air, only one of the feet touching the ground, the other hovering a few inches above. The boy was indeed clad in jeans and a hoodie, a staff in his right hand, a mischievous grin on his handsome face. Though, naturally, the sculpture was colourless, Delia knew exactly what the boy looked like: Icy blue eyes, pale skin and hair as white as snow. Her breath blew white clouds into the cold winter air as she spoke.

‘Jack Frost.’ She approached the sculpture and gently traced the boy’s chin. She could feel a hot tear running down her cheek. She squeezed her eyes shut and shoved the statue away from her.

‘No!’ The icy sculpture crashed onto the ground and shattered. ‘It’s all your fault!’ She shouted, not caring if her neighbours heard the commotion. ‘You said you’d protect us! My father is gone and it’s your fault!’

She fell to her knees, sobbing desperately, tears wetting her palms.

‘You know, I’m feeling guilty enough without you telling me that,’ a voice said behind her.

Delia gasped and whirled around. She was looking at a boy her age, with features identical to the sculpture she’d just destroyed. His icy blue eyes looked both hurt and surprised and his fingers were holding onto his staff so firmly the knuckles had turned white. Delia couldn’t speak, not a single word would leave her throat. The boy blinked.

‘Can you… can you hear me?’ He asked.

Delia scowled, angry, shocked, desperate, and defiantly shook her head.

‘Yes, you do!’ The boy exclaimed. ‘You can hear me!’

‘Shut up!’ She told him. Her entire reality was being reshaped just by the existence of this one boy. She noticed he was hovering a few inches above the ground, held up by a steady winter breeze.

‘Can you… see me as well?’ He asked, ignoring her former comment.

Delia clenched her jaw and wiped the tears out of her eyes. ‘You’re dead ugly,’ she lied. ‘You look nothing like Dad’s sculpture.’ She knew she was being childish but she had basically just been thrust back into her childhood. The twelve years that had passed since the moment she’d stopped believing seemed to have been reverted in an instant.

‘Really?’ The boy's eyes narrowed slightly. ‘I thought it was rather spot-on. After all, I spent the entire afternoon standing still just for Jamie.’

‘You… were here?’

The boy looked at the ground. ‘Yes.’

‘Even… even just then?’

He seemed to understand, as his face distorted painfully. ‘There was nothing…’ he began. ‘My powers didn’t work…’ He stared at his hands, apparently desperate for an explanation.

The absurdity of the situation and her panic led Delia into mad laughter.

‘No,’ she finally said, getting to her feet and staring at the boy. ‘You’re not real, none of this,’ she gestured around, ‘is real.’

The boy looked at her, exhaustion clouding his icy blue eyes. He walked past her and put a hand on the broken sculpture. It glowed blue and instantly mended itself. The boy placed the statue back on its feet and Delia found herself amazed, despite her negative emotions, at how well her father had covered his features. Once again, tears streamed down her face.

‘Why?’ She asked.

‘Jamie,’ the boy answered. ‘Has saved us once before. He was the only one who never lost faith, the last light.’

‘Us?’

‘Yeah, us. Santa Claus. The Tooth Fairy. The Easter Bunny. The Sandman. And me.’

‘Jack Frost.’ The words were like a whisper on Delia’s lips, but in an instant, the boy seemed to almost start glowing.

‘Yes,’ Jack agreed.


	2. Northbound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delia and Jack seek help from Santa and the other Guardians

‘What are you doing?’ Jack asked, following Delia up the stairs.

She didn’t turn around, or even bother to answer at all. She had made up her mind. Nothing she knew could explain this. This wasn’t real. She was dreaming. Trying to ignore the footsteps behind her she headed towards her bedroom, determined to put all of this behind her.

‘Hey, Delia!’ Jack protested, hurrying after her. ‘Talk to me!’

But she didn’t oblige. Instead, she slipped into her covers, which had now grown cold, and firmly closed her eyes. If she only fell asleep, then the next morning everything would be back to normal. Her father would be greeting her sleepily in the kitchen, his brown hair, streaked with gray, would be tousled and unkempt, he’d be wearing his blue striped flannel pyjamas as he always did.

‘What in the world…’ Jack’s voice was unnervingly loud in the quiet night.

Suddenly her blanket was pulled away from her, towards her feet and Delia scrambled up, reaching for the duvet.

‘No need to glare at me like that,’ Jack told her, starting to engage her in a tug-of-war over the blanket.

‘Let. Go,’ she grumbled and tugged harder. The duvet slipped out of Jack’s hands and Delia found herself falling backwards onto her mattress from the sudden loss of resistance. She clenched her fists around her blanket and stared at the ceiling. For a moment, the room was quiet, then her bed creaked and she could feel her mattress moving at her feet.

‘Why are you sleeping??’ Jack sounded rather fed up at this point, but still Delia remained stubborn.

‘I’m going to wake up tomorrow,’ she said firmly, ‘and you’ll be gone. None of this will have happened. This is just a dream.’ She spoke the words like a mantra, more to convince herself than expecting to convince the mythical creature standing atop her bed.

‘You don’t even believe yourself,’ Jack said dryly, which angered her so much she sat up and glared at him.

‘Yes I do!’ She protested, aware that, if these words were true, she was having a fight with an imagination.

‘No you don’t.’ Jack’s voice remained calm, and his expression sober, as he spoke. Delia could feel her cheeks flush, more from anger and humiliation than actual embarrassment. ‘If you did,’ he continued, ‘you wouldn’t be able to hear, much less see, me.’

Delia’s vision swam as, once again, tears of desperation fell from her eyes.

‘Then tell me what I should do!’ She demanded. ‘Tell me how to get my father back!’

She was quite surprised to find Jack looking close to tears himself.

‘I’m not sure,’ he answered. ‘But I know one thing: pretending nothing happened and not doing anything won’t help Jamie.’

Delia blinked away her tears and wiped her eyes. He was right in one thing, at least: crying about it wouldn’t get her anywhere.

‘How?’ She asked, her voice now steady, her gaze unwavering, focusing on his blue pupils. ‘How can I help my father?’

‘I think,’ said Jack, returning her fiery look, ‘it’s time we visited some old friends.’

…

‘You are crazy,’ Delia concluded, adjusting her backpack so the extra weight would bother her less. In a few minutes she’d thrust the most essential things into her battered school bag and put on some proper clothes, coat, scarf, boots and all. Now she was standing on her front porch, scowling at Jack as he extended a hand to her.

‘No, trust me, this works,’ he insisted, reaching a few more inches towards her.

‘You expect me to believe that you can fly with the wind all the way to the North Pole?’ She crossed her arms, not believing she’d just said this sentence in a serious tone.

‘I can!’ Jack thrust out his arms and summoned the winds that spiralled him high into the air. Delia waited as he floated back to the ground, arms crossed, sweat slowly collecting on her forehead.

‘Alright, you proved that you can shoot up into the air like a champagne cork.’

‘A what?’

‘Nevermind. What I’m trying to say is this,’ she spread her hands, searching for the right words as she started pacing up and down the porch. ‘You have no idea whether you can fly for such a long time and, what’s more, with me grabbing on to you.’

‘Well, I’ve never tried before, but that’s –’

‘Do you realise how irrational this is?!’ She burst out. It didn’t make sense. His confidence, his smug smile and relaxed posture. ‘I could die!’

At her last words, he scowled. ‘I would never _ever_ let you die, Delia.’

She hadn’t expected him to suddenly be so serious, but his solemn claim sobered her up. By no means was she calm; after all, his proposal was hideous. But she didn’t really have a choice. She had neither the money to buy a plane ticket nor any other way of reaching the North Pole. And they had to get to the North Pole, according to Jack, because that’s where Santa lived. The whole idea of it made Delia’s head spin.

‘So?’ Jack looked at her expectantly, watching her with an intimidating intent. His blue eyes were focused and he looked more than ready to go. Delia stepped down from the porch and looked up at the sky. The night was clear and the stars twinkling on the black ceiling. She swallowed and looked at Jack.

‘All right,’ she said, ‘but –’

Her words were drowned out by her sudden scream. Jack had grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her over his shoulder and they were shooting upwards, Delia’s house shrinking under her. She was still screaming when it appeared to be the size of a toy.

‘Cut that out, will you?!’ Jack demanded over the noise of the rushing wind. ‘My ears are ringing.’

‘What do you think you’re doing, grabbing me like this?!’ She shrieked, grabbing onto his blue hoodie with all her might.

‘Relax,’ he told her. ‘I’ve got this.’

‘That’s hardly the issue! I’m not some sack of potatoes you can just hoist over your shoulder like that!’

‘You’ve got a problem with the way I’m carrying you?’ He sounded genuinely surprised and Delia stifled laughter.

‘Of course I do! I’m a girl, not a root vegetable.’ She would have slapped his back, if she’d had the courage to let go of his top.

‘Really?’ Delia had no trouble catching the sarcasm in his voice. ‘Alright then.’

He pushed her off his shoulder and let her plummet towards the ground.

‘JACK!’ She yelled, a sudden panic fogging her senses, making her momentarily pass out. When she came to, not much time could have passed, as she could still see her city disappear in the distance. Jack was carrying her princess-style, a smug grin on his face.

‘You!’ She exclaimed angrily. ‘You absolute –’ And she proceeded to call him some names that, judging from his broadening grin, he might have been called before.

‘You have a pretty feisty tongue there,’ he told her.

‘I’m not usually that liberal with my insults.’ Delia crossed her arms, determined not to look at him again. Opening up her mind to the situation she was in, she started to appreciate the scenery that was rushing by, and she couldn’t suppress the elated feeling that started lifting in her chest when she finally accepted the surreal sensation of flying through the night sky, carried only by the wind and Jack’s unwavering pair of hands. She found herself relaxing and subconsciously letting go of Jack and reaching out for the wind to brush through her fingers. The full moon shone brightly and the city lights underneath them raced past and Delia’s chest clenched in delight. Before she knew it, she was grinning broadly.

‘So you do know how to enjoy the wonders of the world,’ Jack commented, a smug expression on his face. ‘Well, North will be glad to hear that.’

Delia started scowling in protest. ‘Of course I appreciate the wonders of the world, but that doesn’t mean I believe in the fantasies of childhood.’ Her thoughts darkened as the memories threatened to overwhelm her.

‘You realise you’re flying to the North Pole solely thanks to the powers of your so-called “fantasies”?’ Jack sounded bitter as he said that and Delia suddenly remembered one of the stories her father used to tell her: That he, Jamie, had been the first human ever to recognise Jack Frost’s existence; the first person who could see the spirit, and talk to him, after Jack had endured 300 years of loneliness. Her snide comeback got stuck in her throat.

‘I only believe in what I can see, or experience. Since I can see you, you’re obviously real,’ she murmured, but even through the rushing wind he must have heard her. She caught him staring at her in surprise, an expression so honest and so far removed from his usual confident grin, that Delia’s heart almost skipped a beat. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks and averted her gaze.

They shared the rest of the journey in silence and Delia gladly returned to admiring the view. It was better than conversing with the Spirit of Winter and enduring his unnervingly blue eyes. She couldn’t deny Jack was attractive, but that was no reason for her to start connecting with him. All she wanted was her father returned and her life back to normal. Suddenly being captivated by a pair of icy blue eyes certainly wasn’t on that list.

Her thoughts were soon swallowed up when they arrived at the North Pole. How they’d done it, she had no idea. After all, her home wasn’t just a couple hours’ plane ride from there, but Jack had flown them to their destination more quickly than she could have ever imagined. That was not the only thing that was beyond Delia’s imagination. Snow; snow everywhere, so white it was blinding, even in the dim light of the dawning sun. The glowing blue icebergs reached high into the sky and Jack had lowered their altitude, dipping his feet in the soft crystals, leaving a glittering tail behind them. They were approaching a massive icy cliff, so broad it covered almost the entire horizon and so tall she couldn’t possibly peak over it. Jack, however, didn’t lift them higher and she thought they would certainly crash. Her stomach took on a life on itself, her fingertips went very cold and she had a very gruelling image of her blood staining the perfect white as they sped towards the cliff.

‘Jack,’ she called out, desperate for him to change course and, once again, clinging onto his jumper. He ignored her, only increasing his speed. They were now only feet from it. Delia’s heart raced with white panic and she couldn’t help but squeezing her eyes shut, expecting the impact. But the impact never came. Long after she’d expected to crash with the solid wall of ice, she opened her eyes.

‘Whoah.’

In front of them, a majestic domed castle crowned the landscape, covered almost entirely in gigantic icicles. Lights were glowing in the ice and Delia was immediately captivated by the building.

‘You’ve got to give it to him,’ Jack said, after seeing her expression. ‘North’s got style.’

They entered the castle through one of the unfrozen windows and Delia stared in undisguised wonder at the inner workings of the palace. Several stories of round wooden platforms snaked around a massive column, there was a steady buzz, jingling of bells, the grunting of something Delia thought must have been animals. On closer inspection, she realised they were Yetis, each of them working on a different set of toys, while tiny red elves wobbled around their feet, apparently eager to lend a helping hand in any way they could. Jack set her down onto the ground and she almost sighed, then remembered she liked the steady feeling of her feet touching something solid. She looked up, only to find several more platforms just like the one she was standing on rise into the distance. She turned on her heels, trying to take in all the wonder and was surprised when she found herself tear up.

‘You okay?’ Jack asked, examining her way too closely for her comfort. She took a quick step back and rubbed her eyes.

‘Yeah, fine. Just…’

‘Overwhelmed?’

The voice had come from behind her, low, but gentle, with a distinguishable Russian accent. She’d heard this voice in her dream and was rather certain to whom it belonged, though she didn’t dare believe. Slowly, she turned around and there he was. A tall, round man, clad in red, with the longest white beard she’d ever seen on a man. His smile was gentle yet concerned and his eyes were unsettlingly deep.

‘I brought her,’ Jack said, stepping to her right. ‘Just as instructed.’

‘Just as instructed?’ Delia whirled around, anger swelling in her chest. ‘What the –’ She considered throwing out some more nicknames at him, then remembered the other person in her presence. She swallowed and looked back at Santa Claus, who was chuckling merrily.

‘Oh, don’t worry, I know you are rather… spirited.’ He winked at her and Delia could feel her cheeks flush. A yeti approached him with a pen and paper and Santa signed the sheet without even looking at it. Another group of Yetis brushed past them, followed by three elves, whose pointy hats jingled with every step they took. The whole scene left Delia open-mouthed.

‘I think we should go somewhere more… quiet, no? Might be easier to concentrate,’ Santa added with a smirk. He started and Delia and Jack followed.

‘Pretty cool, huh?’ Jack asked, inspecting her reaction. ‘Still think Santa doesn’t exist?’

She felt strangely uncomfortable with him exposing her shortcomings like that, so she retaliated. ‘Yeah, it’s awesome. If you had such an amazing home, I might have believed in you sooner.’

She saw him frown and open his mouth to reply, but an elf got in his way. He tugged at Jack’s trousers and the Winter Spirit kneeled down.

‘Yes?’

The little elf handed him something that looked suspiciously like a snow globe, though the inside landscape was all messed up. Delia thought it was cute, but pretty useless. Jack, however, took it and smiled gratefully.

‘Thanks, it’s great,’ he told the elf, who jingled away happily.

‘So the Ice Guardian has a warm heart, huh?’ Delia mocked him, though she couldn’t entirely shove away the fuzzy feeling that was spreading in her chest. Jack looked up at her, pouting.

‘Oh, shut up.’


	3. The Fears of a Teenager

‘Cookies? Milk?’ Santa eagerly held a tray filled with steaming chocolate chip cookies in front of her nose and Delia gently pushed it away.

‘No, thanks, I’m not really into sweet foods…’ She smiled unsteadily.

Santa had led them into a room a little way off palace’s centre. No yetis or elves were roaming here, but Delia was still in awe. It wasn’t the large blazing fireplace, nor the ornately carved wooden handrails, not even the open domed ceiling that took her breath away. No, what immediately caught her gaze was a gigantic model of the earth, hovering in the middle of the room. Thousands, maybe millions of golden lights flickered on top of all five continents and Delia couldn’t tear herself away from it. Santa stepped beside her, glancing up at the globe himself.

‘Do you like it?’ He asked.

‘I’ve never seen something like this before,’ she whispered, vaguely aware that she was avoiding his question.

‘So you’re awestruck by the globe, but seeing me mend a sculpture with my ice powers gets no reaction whatsoever?’ Jack raised an eyebrow, but Delia ignored him.

‘What are all the lights?’ She asked Santa instead.

‘Ah.’ Santa chuckled. ‘The lights, you see, every one of them is child.’

‘A child?’ Delia couldn’t believe him. She had seen a lot that day, but a live map of the children of the world? Too much was simply too much.

‘A child that believes,’ added Santa, apparently oblivious that her wondrous gaze had turned into a defiant stare. ‘And, let me see…’ He stepped up to a control panel just underneath the globe and pressed some buttons, then pulled a lever. The globe began to rotate until Delia was faced with the part that depicted the North Pole; a single light was blinking at the very northernmost point.

‘This,’ Santa said, looking extremely happy with himself. ‘Is you.’

Pushed out of her daze in an instant, Delia choked and took a step back. ‘That’s impossible!’ She protested. ‘I don’t believe!’

‘I feel like we had this conversation before,’ Jack commented, watching her outburst with an air of contempt. Delia glared at him.

‘Just because I accept your existence,’ she growled. ‘Doesn’t mean I “believe”.’ She all but spat the last word at his feet. ‘And what’s more,’ she added, ignoring the anger that started clouding his face. ‘I am _not_ a child.’

Jack sneered. ‘Are you kidding me? With seventeen you’re barely considered an adult nowadays, are you?’

‘There’s this thing we call teenager!’ She returned, her own anger clawing at her chest. ‘Just because you’re stuck in eternal childhood, I don’t have to feel the same!’

‘Whow, whow, whow! Are you calling _me_ a child?’

They had started to get into each other’s face and Delia exclaimed in surprise, when a pair of fuzzy hands grabbed her backpack and pulled her backwards. She looked up and saw a grey yeti staring down at her. A brown yeti had taken over the job of holding back Jack, who was floundering in the creature’s grip.

‘Hey, let me go!’ He protested noisily.

‘Alright, alright, enough fighting!’ Santa had clapped his hands and the both of them were glaring at him darkly, but that clearly left him unfazed. ‘We all get along now, no?’

‘No,’ grumbled Delia, as her yeti released her.

Jack shot her a provocative look and she stuck her tongue out at him, not wanting to be hoisted into the air by the yeti once more.

‘Ya didn’t tell me the young’un was a troublemaker, North,’ someone said to her right. A grey hare the size of a grown man was studying her intently, a stern look on his face. He was walking on his hind legs and had a boomerang strapped to his back, brown leather wristbands covering his arms and legs.

‘You’re…’ Delia began, but the hare interrupted her immediately.

‘Yeah, yeah, I know; I’m the Easter Bunny, no need to get all amazed, real –’

‘Massive,’ Delia finished her sentence, leaving the Bunny caught in silence.

Beside her, Jack roared with laughter. ‘Massive! You are massive, Bunny, got to admit that!’

‘You little punk!’ Bunny started in Jack’s direction, completely disregarding that it had been Delia who had, unwillingly, offended him. Quick enough, though, Santa stepped between the two of them.

‘Bunny, calm down,’ he warned. ‘And you Jack, hold back, we are all here for reason.’

As quickly as Jack had gotten into his fit of laugher he was sobered out of it. Even Bunny stopped in his tracks, his large ears drooping slightly.

‘Jamie,’ Jack murmured and Delia gasped, immediately covering her mouth when the others stared at her. With all that had happened, everything she had seen, and everything she had been forced to believe, the reason for her strange journey had been pushed into the back of her mind. Guilt rushed over her like a bucket of icy water when she remembered that she had followed Jack for one reason, and one reason alone: to get her father back. Cold sweat ran down her spine and she clenched her jaw. How could she have forgotten, even if only for a few moments?

‘Delia?’ Jack asked, with that gentle tone she had observed in him before, but she shook her head quietly. She would never admit to any of them that the wonders in front of her, the myths of her childhood, had been enough to take her mind off the harsh and strange reality that had become her life.

‘Moving on,’ Santa interrupted, seemingly aware of her uneasiness and eager to pick up the mood. ‘We are still waiting for Tooth and Sandy. And, Delia,’ he studied her carefully. ‘I am afraid that I am not sure how to get Jamie back. We must wait for tonight to get answer.’

‘Tonight?’ She asked, panic once again threatening to take hold of her. ‘Why?’

‘The moon?’ Bunny asked instead, staring at Santa. ‘Ya think he’s got the answers?’

‘Moon always has answer,’ Santa confirmed affirmatively.

‘I dunno, mate.’ Bunny looked doubtfully up through the open roof. The sun had progressed quite a lot and was already gleaming in the sky.

‘What are you talking about?’ Delia asked, following Bunny’s gaze. ‘What do you mean “the moon has the answer”?’

‘The moon,’ said Jack and Delia turned towards him. ‘He’s the one who chose us; the one who made us Guardians.’

‘Wait a minute.’ She stared at him, narrowing her eyes. ‘You mean to tell me that you were chosen by _the moon_?’ She couldn’t believe this. And not in the literal sense. Who was the moon to choose some sort of Guardians of the children of the earth?

‘Not moon, really,’ Santa told her. ‘Man in Moon; Manny.’

‘The Man in the Moon?’ She gazed at him blankly. ‘And his name is Manny?’ Santa nodded happily, but Delia had had enough. ‘Okay, no, I’m out,’ she said, turning her back towards the globe and heading for the door through which they’d entered. ‘I’m done with this, take me off the list.’

‘Whoah, what are you doin’?’ Bunny hopped after her, but she ignored his protest.

‘I’m leaving,’ she told him.

‘Delia!’ Jack called out. ‘Hey!’

‘Where are you going?’ Even Santa hurried after her now, as she pressed through the groups of yetis and avoided flying toys.

‘I’m going to find my Dad,’ she announced, unfazed by the trio chasing after her.

‘Delia!’ Jack tried to grab her shoulder, but she shoved him off.

‘You gotta be kiddin’ me!’ Bunny said, to nobody in particular. ‘This kid’s crazy!’

Delia whirled around, anger clouding her vision, her eyes brimming with tears. ‘I’m _not_ a kid!’ Her voice got stronger with every word and suddenly she found herself yelling, unleashing all her fear and frustration. She felt like the ground had opened up underneath her feet and she was staring into a big, black chasm of despair. ‘My father is gone, and none of you did anything to prevent it! Nor are you doing anything to get him back! And if you expect me to sit around here until night time, to wait for advice from the Man in the Moon, then you’ve got to be delusional, because I –’

Before she could finish her sentence, everything went black. Suddenly she found herself in a huge underground cave that hosted ruins of times long gone. Staircases were scattered here and there and a gloom hung over the entire scene. Delia stared, shocked, at the scene before her. How had she gotten here?

‘What’s happening?’ She whispered, her voice breaking.

‘Ah, good question.’ The voice was so close to her Delia thought it might as well have been inside her head. She whirled around, staring at Pitch. Her heart was racing like she’d just done a 200m sprint and her whole body sent her one single message: RUN! But her legs wouldn’t listen; her fear kept her glued to the spot as she couldn’t tear her frightened eyes from the monster in front of her. Pitch smiled and Delia noticed that his lips, like his robe, were black, his teeth dirty and, worst of all, pointed.

‘Wha-?’ Delia asked, her voice escaping her in a rasping shriek. She had meant to ask ‘What do you want from me?’, but her panic had rendered her utterly useless.

Pitch sneered. ‘Oh, look at you, little human. All afraid and unable to cope, what a beautiful sight.’

Delia thought that hadn’t his voice sounded so smooth, so utterly perfect in its maliciousness, she wouldn’t have felt half as scared. Pitch took a step back and studied her, airily waving his hand about.

‘You’re wondering what you’re doing here,’ he concluded. ‘Of course you do.’

Still her fear overpowered her urge to run away, but Pitch just rambled on, utterly unconcerned with her state of mind.

‘See, we are, once again, in your dreams. I have to admit, even I didn’t expect you to go back to sleep so soon, but my old friend the Sandman must have helped me out there.’ He smirked.

Delia gasped. Of course! The Sandman must’ve arrived at the North Pole, seen her run away and blasted her to sleep with his sand. She glared at Pitch, her tongue finally back in her control.

‘Then why are you here? Isn’t the Sandman supposed to bring happy dreams.’

Pitch’s face was now full of mock pity as he mustered her. ‘Oh, yes, usually. But you see, last time I visited I left a little, ah… present.’ He spread his hand and a miniature dark horse with gleaming read eyes assembled itself in his hand. It reared and whinnied. ‘Such a beauty.’

Delia raised her fists. She was no fighter, but her school had provided free self-defence lessons that she’d gladly taken.

‘Stay away from me,’ she growled.

Pitch snickered. ‘Oh, no, I’m so scared!’

Despite the seriousness of the situation, she felt herself blush. ‘I mean it, leave me alone!’

‘Sweetheart.’ The Boogeyman glided forward and with one quick swish swatted her hands away. ‘You don’t want me to go away. After all, I have what you desire most.’

Out of the shadows a large cage materialised. It was rather like an animal box, but made for different measures. Inside the dark, a person came to focus. A middle-aged man, with auburn hair streaked with grey, and light brown eyes.

‘Dad!’ Delia started forward, but Pitch snapped his fingers and the cage vanished. She cried out in desperation.

‘Not so fast,’ Pitch said. ‘We don’t want to spoil all the fun, now, do we?’

She glared at him, tears collecting in the corners of her eyes. ‘What did you do to him?!’

‘For now? Nothing.’ He looked rather annoyed at that. ‘Your friend the Sandman has put a protective barrier around him which hinders me from breaching his dreams. Unfortunately I cannot directly harm his body.’ He sighed.

Delia took a defensive stance. ‘Why are you showing me all this?’ She asked, narrowing her eyes. The Boogeyman approached her and traced her jawline with his finger. They were cold as eyes and Delia shivered, but her legs had bound her to the spot once more. Her stomach became more upset by the minute and she was glad that she hadn’t had breakfast yet.

‘Your fear,’ Pitch whispered ‘is _so_ beautiful. It’s the fear of a child that has lost all faith in her guardians, a child that thinks she needs no protection and realises she cannot do anything on her own. The most delicious fear of all: the fear of a teenager.’

‘Wha –’

Out of nowhere a blast of blue light shot towards Pitch and only in the last second could he raise a shield of black sand to protect him, but the impact still shoved him several feet away from Delia. She looked in the direction the light had come from and her heavy heart lightened when she recognised the familiar white hair and handsome features.

‘Get away from her, Pitch!’ Jack shouted.

Pitch grumbled and got to his feet. ‘Tch. An unwanted visitor.’

Jack shot forward, placing himself between the two while protectively spreading his arms in front of Delia.

‘The one who’s unwanted,’ he said, ‘is you. And Delia hasn’t lost all faith as you can see.’

His staff was white from frost, his blue powers sparking around the hand that had gripped it.

‘Jack,’ Delia murmured, relief washing over her like a warm spring breeze. She grabbed his hoodie from behind and buried her forehead in his broad back, her eyes brimming with tears. She could feel him stiffen and turn, but didn’t dare look up; she didn’t want him to see her tears.

‘What did you do to her?’ He asked Pitch.

‘Oh, nothing at all,’ the Boogeyman answered and Delia could hear the sneer through his words. ‘We just had a little chat.’

‘I don’t believe you,’ said Jack.

Pitch sighed. ‘No-one ever does. But my business here is done. For now.’

‘You!’ Jack raised his staff and shot another attack at the spot Pitch had been standing a millisecond ago, but the Boogeyman was gone. Delia relaxed her grip and let go of Jack. He turned around and placed his hands on her shoulders. ‘Are you alright?’ His ice-blue eyes were filled with worry.

Delia nodded hesitantly, not confident enough that her voice would come out straight. Jack must have noticed her unnerved demeanour; he narrowed his eyes and she could feel his grip tighten around her shoulders.

‘Are you sure?’

Finally, she managed a smile. Pitch had said she was all alone, and that no-one would come to help her, but here he was. Strong, confident, concerned.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘At least for now.’

She could see him relax immediately as he ran a hand through his snowy hair.

‘What are you doing here, Jack?’ She asked, suddenly realising she was still inside a dream.

‘What do you mean? I came to protect you of course!’ He looked so taken aback that Delia couldn’t help but chuckle. His eyes widened.

‘No,’ she said. ‘I mean, how did you get here? Aren’t we still inside my dream?’

‘The moment Sandy had blasted you into dreamland – hey, don’t look at _me_ like that,’ he said when she glowered at him darkly. ‘Not my idea.’ He shrugged. ‘Anyway, Sandy immediately realised something was off, but it took him some time to make me able to go inside your dream. He managed after a few minutes and here I am.’

‘I see…’ Delia murmured, though, truthfully, she didn’t quite get it at all. ‘So, um, how do we get back?’

‘That’s the annoying part.’ Jack rolled his eyes. ‘We’ll have to wait until they wake us up.’

‘Oh?’ She looked around, suddenly noticing that the dark cave had turned into a summer’s day. They were standing in a field of flowers, a soft breeze tickling her nose. Jack stared at her dryly.

‘Really? That’s your favourite weather? A little snow couldn’t hurt, you know?’

‘My favourite… I did this?’ She stared at him and he shrugged.

‘It’s your dream.’

‘Oh… and we’ll have to stay here until the others wake us up?’ She asked, her heart starting to beat faster as, at the same time, a feeling of utter peace spread through her chest.

‘Yup.’ Jack plopped down on the ground, picked a flower and started freezing it.

‘Just the two of us?’

‘Uh-huh.’ He was so occupied with turning flowers into popsicles he didn’t even notice her flushing.

‘Oh,’ she said again and sat down beside him.


	4. The Guardians of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Man in the Moon reveals the answer to their plea for help.

‘Jack?’

‘Hm?’

‘How much longer are we going to have to stay here?’

Delia had now idea how much time they’d spent in her dreamland. Was it hours? Days? Did time even work the same way in dreams? All around her the flower field had vanished as Jack had frosted flower after flower and the summer day had transformed into an early spring night. It wasn’t a scary night, with the full moon shining down on them and illuminating the whitewashed field. Delia had wandered around after a while, unsure of what to say and thus remaining silent.

‘I dunno.’ Finally answering her question, Jack had stepped beside her, gazing up at the full moon. ‘Why the change of scenery?’

‘Huh?’ She had temporarily forgotten that her mind was responsible for the weather and their surroundings. ‘Oh, that,’ she murmured. ‘I’m not sure.’ She turned to look at the frosted flower field that was shimmering silvery in the moonlight. ‘Maybe I thought it would be more atmospheric.’

‘What?’

‘Nothing.’ She sighed. She had to get out of this dream, after all her father was still in that cage, contained by Pitch, an image that was haunting her relentlessly. Her chest tightened at the thought of it. ‘Jack, we need to get out of here, _now_. I can’t be expected to sit around and wait until North or the others decide to wake us up!’ Her voice had risen according to her sudden burst of panic and Jack was now staring at her with a rather concerned expression.

‘Hey,’ he said, and put a hand on her shoulder. ‘We’ll get Jamie back, you know that, right?’

‘Yeah? And how do you plan to do that, huh? We have no idea where Pitch hiding, what his plans are or even how to check if my dad is still okay!’ She was breathing heavily and could feel that leg-binding fear coming back to her.

‘Look, Delia.’ Jack sounded very calm, but she knew he was holding back for her sake. ‘Tonight, we’ll confer with the Man in the Moon and he’ll tell us what to do. _For sure_ ,’ he added, when he saw the doubtful look on her face. ‘And Pitch can’t hurt Jamie physically, that’s impossible for us Spirits, Guardian or not. The only thing he _could_ do is subject him to terrible nightmares, but Sandy said he was taking care of that. He’ll be safe and we’ll rescue him very soon, so try to remain calm, okay?’

He was looking at her intently, his blue eyes prying deep inside her soul. He had no proof for his conviction whatsoever and she had absolutely no reason to believe him, but somehow her pulse calmed down. She took a deep breath and blinked away the tears that were burning behind her eyes.

‘Okay,’ she mumbled.

‘Good.’ Jack granted her a gentle smile. ‘Now what do you say we turn this dream into something a bit more fun, hm?’ He spread his arms and suddenly big flakes of snow were falling from the skies.

‘What do you mean?’ Delia wasn’t sure whether her definition of fun was in line with Jack’s.

‘What about a good old snowball fight?’ He opened his palm and a snowball formed on top of it. Delia took a step back. Being cold and wet as well as worried was not on her priority list. Jack grinned mischievously.

‘Jack, I don’t think this is a good –’ Before she could finish her sentence, a soft snowball hit her square in the face. ‘…idea,’ she added as the snow dropped from her nose to the ground. She wanted to reprimand him for being so irresponsible, but suddenly a giddy feeling in her stomach made her giggle.

Jack grinned. ‘Feel it yet?’

She giggled again and had to focus with all her might to scowl at him. ‘What did you do to me?’ She asked angrily. ‘This…’ Another giggle. ‘…is your doing, isn’t it.’

He floated up a few feet and shrugged. ‘I thought you could do with a little more fun in your life, you know.’

‘I…’ More giggling. ‘Am perfectly capable of having fun on my own, thanks!’ She crossed her arms, but had to release them almost immediately to hold her stomach when another wave of laughter overtook her.

‘Yeah, I can see that.’ His tone was very smug and had Delia not been so busy with trying to breathe, she would have slapped him for it.

‘Make this stop!’ She said between waves of laughter. She glared up at him, but Jack only studied her nonchalantly, not bothered by her apparent anger.

‘I can’t.’ He shrugged. ‘It’ll wear off in a bit, you’ll see.’

‘Jack Frost!’ She shouted and because she had no better weapon she formed a pile of snow into a projectile and went for his head. Unfortunately for her, her aim was far from impeccable and so the snowball missed Jack by a good foot.

He blinked at her, then burst out laughing. ‘You call that a snowball? This,’ he formed another one in his hand, ‘is a snowball.’

And for the second time in a row Delia experienced a snowball square in her face. ‘Stop it!’ She yelled.

‘Only if you get me,’ he called back. He was obviously enjoying himself.

And so she ran after him, still fighting the odd giggling fit, trying to hit him with a snowball of her own. Regrettably, Jack was a flying Spirit and even without her poor throwing abilities he would have been near impossible to hit. She threw snowball after snowball as he weaved and evaded, and slowly another sensation took over the feeling of Jack’s forced fun. It was, she suddenly realised, true enjoyment. Delia hadn’t fooled around like this for a long time. As a girl raised only by her father most of the time she had been quick with taking on responsibilities in the household and had found that, between helping her father and studying, silly games like this had had no more space on her timetable. This time, she decided to truly let the feeling wash over her, take hold of her and distract her from her current concerns. After all, this was only a dream, right?

When she had played so much that her arms were getting heavy, she let herself fall into the snow and stared into the night sky. A smile was spreading on her face. Realising he wasn’t being chased anymore, Jack came flying over.

‘Everything okay?’ He asked, once again sounding quite concerned.

She sat up and looked at him. She now understood that he had only try to cheer her up with his magic snowball. Delia smiled and said: ‘Yeah, just tired.’

He studied her for a second, then floated down to sit in the snow in front of her. ‘You know,’ he said. ‘That was quite a fight you gave me there.’

She smirked. ‘And I would have won if not for your annoying flying ability.’

He caught her tone and grinned back. ‘Yeah, keep telling yourself that.’

She was opening her mouth, ready to return a comment, but suddenly she blacked out. When she opened her eyes again, she was in the arms of Santa Claus, who gently shook her.

‘Delia, it is time for waking up.’

She blinked and stared at him for a second. Then she sat up.

‘Wha– ?’ She rubbed her eyes and looked around. She was lying on the floor of the Earth room, as she had christened it, Jack a few feet away from her, being kicked awake by Bunny.

‘Wake up ya lazy kid!’

Jack shot upwards, his arms flailing. ‘What’s happening?’ He reached for his staff and got to his feet.

‘Relax, Jack, it’s all good,’ a woman’s voice said and suddenly Delia saw the hummingbird-like fairy she had seen in her very first dream. The woman’s wings were fluttering too fast for Delia’s eyes to process and she was clad in a feathery green and blue outfit, some longer tail feathers sticking out from her back. She noticed Delia’s curious inspection and came buzzing over.

‘Hi Delia, I’m the Tooth Fairy, nice to meet you!’ She was fluttering excitedly up and down. ‘But, of course you know that! You do know that, right?! Oh, how thoughtless of me, here,’ she reached into a pocket and Delia wondered where she even kept pockets in that skin-tight outfit. When she retrieved her hand, she was holding a small, golden, cylindrical box with Delia’s face on one side. It was a picture that had been taken some years back, with her smiling happily into the camera.

Delia took the box and turned it around; something inside was clattering. ‘What is this?’ She asked, fascinated.

‘Your teeth,’ the Tooth Fairy answered eagerly and Delia nearly dropped the box.

‘My what?!’

‘They contain your memories,’ Jack answered, though he was scowling. ‘Tooth, why did you bring them here?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Tooth answered. ‘It was a gut feeling.’

‘How do teeth contain memories?’ Delia asked, dismissing the slight tension.

‘How?’ The Tooth Fairy looked uncertain. ‘I don’t know, but I know that they do.’

‘That’s crazy…’ Delia murmured, though more or less to herself. She didn’t consider memory-containing teeth the craziest thing she had encountered lately.

‘Alright, mates, I don’t want to interrupt whatever bonding is going on here, but we’re kinda on a time limit.’ The Easter Bunny stepped up to them. ‘Delia, this is Sandman. Sandy, this is Delia Bennett, Jamie’s daughter. Yeah, I know, I just thought I’d do the honours,’ Bunny added when Sandy knit his forehead. The Sandman looked like what Delia could only describe as an oversized, round churro, made completely from golden sand. He was smiling and even though Delia still felt a slight resentment towards him, she couldn’t help but smile back.

‘Hello,’ she said, but instead of answering, he formed a hat on his head, took it off and bowed. He turned his hand and opened his palm and only after a moment did Delia realise he was gesturing for her to copy him. So she did and Sandy formed a small pony on her palm which whinnied and galloped around. ‘Uh…’ She was unsure of what to make of it.

‘He’s tellin’ ya that he’s protecting Jamie with his dream magic,’ Bunny translated.

Delia stared at Sandy. ‘You… you can’t speak?’ She asked quietly. Sandy smiled and shrugged, then suddenly his face was sullen. He gestured for all of them to gather around and the others came closer.

‘What is it, Sandy?’ Santa asked.

The Sandman created a picture of her father, then the horse, then the sand atop his head formed the number ten.

‘What does he mean?’ Delia asked, looking around at the others. They looked almost equally as sullen now.

‘I think,’ Tooth explained, ‘that Sandy means to say he can protect Jamie for ten days, at the most. Is that right?’ She looked at Sandy, who nodded.

‘Ten… ten days?’ Delia swallowed. ‘That’s… I mean, thank you! But, that’s not for very long, is it?’

‘Well, I guess we all get what that means, then.’ Bunny’s expression had turned very grim.

‘We need to find them,’ said Jack determinedly. ‘And soon.’

…

Night was falling and the Guardians and Delia were starting to get more nervous by the minute. Jack was watching Delia as she paced back and forth in the room, forehead wrinkled, and his stomach tightened. He saw so much of Jamie in her, her earthy green eyes, soft auburn hair which she wore in a long braid down her back. Her posture, her smile… it pained him every time he looked at her, knowing that Jamie’s connection with him, and with the other Guardians, was what had driven the Boogeyman to bring this misfortune upon their small family. Jamie had never stopped believing, even as an adult, and Jack had assumed it would be the same with Delia. But then her mother had died and everything had changed… from one day to another she had completely lost faith, in all of them, and it had felt as if a large knife had struck Jack’s heart. He had still watched her grow up, feeling the same pride as Jamie whenever she achieved something great, but knowing she’d never see him cheer, well, that was something he had never really come to terms with. Then Pitch had attacked and, again, Delia’s world had been turned upside down. Jack wasn’t happy, of course, about the way it had happened, but something inside him had started glowing the moment she acknowledged his existence. It wasn’t easy being the snow spirit who no-one really believed in, but Jamie had made it worth it. And now Delia. She looked up and saw him studying her and there was something in her gaze Jack couldn’t put his finger on. It made his chest tighten, but he decided not to linger on it. Anything but finding Jamie was utterly unimportant.

‘What?’ She asked him and, for a second, he contemplated not answering. But her eyes were steady and demanding and he found himself explaining.

‘I just thought how extraordinarily you look like your father,’ he admitted.

Delia blushed and tugged at a strand of hair that had loosened from her braid.

‘Oh,’ she murmured. She looked disappointed and Jack had no idea why.

‘Something wrong?’ He asked.

‘Ah, no, well…’ She turned her back to him, studying the giant globe floating in the room, illuminated by thousands of tiny lights. Children. ‘It’s just that my dad always told me I look like my mum, which is stupid, since she looked like a surfer princess, but, you know.’ She shrugged and faced him again. ‘I don’t have much else left of her.’ There was a deep, heart-wrenching sadness in her eyes that overtook Jack and made his stomach tighten into several knots.

‘I’m- ’ He started, but she interrupted.

‘If you’re about to say “sorry”, don’t!’ She ordered, looking fierce. ‘It’s not your fault and that expression doesn’t make it any better.’ Then her gaze softened, as she must have realised how aggressive she sounded. ‘I mean, thanks, though. It was a long time ago.’ She smiled and Jack had the inexplicable urge to close his arms around her, to not let anything hurt her like this again. Instead, he got to his feet and turned to North.

‘Hey,’ he asked, and North looked up. He and the other Guardians had been in a deep, serious discussion that consisted mostly of rushed whispers and Jack had had no interest in their schemes, hence his studying of Delia. ‘Will it be time soon?’

‘Hm,’ North made, stood up and walked towards one of the windows. ‘I think so. Moon is almost at his peak.’

Delia perked up. ‘Finally!’ She exclaimed, her eyes shining.

‘Open hatch!’ North ordered one of his yetis, and the big furry creature obliged. A window opened in the large ceiling and Jack could see the stars, twinkling brightly along the black night sky. Then he saw the moon and it was almost like the first time he’d awoken as a Guardian. There was a buzzing in his head and heat filled his chest, droning out everything around him. The rays of the moon illuminated a large, intricately ornamented tile in the floor, which lifted and revealed itself as a built-in glass display, holding a large Chrystal. The Chrystal started shining, glowing in a rosy light and slowly, the outline of a person came into view. It was too blurred to clearly identify, but Jack could see a billowing dress, long, flowing hair and large, feathery wings spread on the person’s back. Suddenly a tune started playing, a song Jack didn’t recognise, but it still tugged at his heart and he could feel tears streaming down his cheeks. It was less sadness, and more nostalgia, but he didn’t know where he might have heard it before. When he stared at the others in terror, he could see them crying silently as well, even Delia, and then Bunny mumbled.

‘Impossible.’

Tooth wiped her tears and floated closer to the apparition. ‘Really?’

Sandy just stared, captivated.

‘It can’t be,’ North concluded.

‘Agape,’ Delia murmured, eyes glazed. ‘This piece of music… that’s its name.’

…

‘Agape?’ Jack asked, obviously confused, while the other four guardians just stared at Delia with expressions of terror. Since none of them made any attempt of explaining it to him, Delia decided she had to take the honours.

‘Yeah, one of the four kinds of love.’

Jack blinked at her.

‘You know, the Greek? No?’

Jack shrugged.

‘Well, see, the Greek believed that there existed four kinds of love: romantic love, Eros; the love of family, Storge; the love between friends, Philia; and unconditional love, Agape. But, well…’ She looked at the other Guardians. ‘I don’t really understand how that’s relevant to rescuing my father.’

At last, North cleared his throat and started pacing the room.

‘Ah, you see,’ he said, looking mildly uncomfortable, ‘we are Guardians, no?’

Delia nodded, confused at to what his point was, exactly.

‘Guardians of Childhood. And, well, there are also Guardians for adults. Guardians of Love.’

‘What?’ Delia stared at him. ‘Are you telling me that these… these four actually exist? As Guardians?’

‘Well, I mean, we’ve never _really_ met them!’ Tooth chimed in. ‘We’re kind of working in different spheres, you know!’

‘Whow whow whow, wait a minute here, why have I never heard of them before?’ Jack at least seemed equally as shocked as Delia.

‘There’s nothing to hear about, mate,’ Bunny said. ‘They’re them, we’re us. They do their thing, ya know, make ‘em adults fall in love, make ‘em care about their friends, their kids… and we do our job, care for the kids, make ‘em happy an’ stuff. There’s no need for us to consider their existence.’

‘But, clearly there is!’ Delia protested. ‘I mean… Agape is something a child would feel for their parents and…’ She blushed slightly and studied her hands. ‘We fall in love, you know.’

Jack snorted. ‘Yeah, but that really has nothing to do with childhood.’

‘Yeah, it does! Some kids develop early.’

She looked up to find all five Guardians staring at her. Sandy, mischievous, Tooth, curious, North, surprised, Bunny, disgusted, Jack, shocked. She put up her hands in defence.

‘Hey, not me guys! I mean, not that I haven’t had a crush before, but – hold on, I don’t need to justify my love life in front of immortal spirits!’ If her head was as red as it felt, she would have been visible from miles away.

‘I guess there is time and place for this topic, no?’ North asked, in an attempt to reconcile them again and the other Guardians nodded, except Jack. He was staring at her darkly, with an intent she could not identify.

‘Alright, movin’ on,’ Bunny agreed. ‘Does that mean we’ll have to find that Agape spirit in order to rescue Jamie?’

‘And how do we do that?’ Yet another obstacle that settled heavily in Delia’s stomach. She sighed and stared at the place where the glowing crystal had been.

‘I do not know.’ North looked heartbroken and Delia knew that the Guardians cared about her father’s rescue as much as she did, yet she couldn’t help wanting to blame them for his disappearance in the first place. She knew that wasn’t fair, so she bit her tongue and swallowed her spiteful comment.

‘Maybe…’ Tooth muttered as her wings started fluttering with excitement, lifting her higher into the air. ‘Maybe I have an idea.’

‘Yeah?!’ Delia straightened, hoping for some kind of miraculous resolve. ‘You know how to find Agape?’

‘Oh, no, not Agape,’ Tooth said and Delia’s heart sunk down again, as if a door had been closed shut right in front of her face. ‘But, Eros. Probably,’ Tooth added as Delia’s head perked up.

‘How d’you know how ta find Eros, huh?’ Bunny eyed her sceptically and Tooth blushed.

‘Not me, personally!’ She protested. ‘But my fairies get around and they… well, they hear things.’ She shrugged.

‘They hear things?’ Jack asked. It was the first thing he’d said in a while and Delia looked at him. Something about the way he stared at Tooth disturbed her. He seemed… determined, but also very dark.

‘Yeah…’ Considering Tooth’s reaction Delia thought it wasn’t just her imagination that Jack acted strange.

‘And, what did they hear, your fairies?’ North asked.

‘Ah, right!’ Tooth turned to North, obviously relieved to escape Jack’s scrutinous gaze. ‘Basically, Eros seems to be the one easiest to lure out among the Four Loves. He just needs to take an interest in you, you know…’

‘An interest? The Spirit of Romantic Love needs to take an interest in you?’ Delia stared at Tooth in disbelief. ‘Tooth! That’s like saying the president needs to take an interest in your political opinion! How do we do that? How do we even know where he is? Wait – is he a he?’

‘Apparently he prefers to appear as a male human;’ Tooth explained. ‘But he sometimes appears as a female, mostly depending on what the other party is interested in.’

‘How do you know all that?’ Jack looked slightly disgusted.

Tooth blushed. ‘Fairy network,’ she mumbled.

‘Anyway,’ Bunny intervened. ‘The kid has a point. Where is Eros and how will we get his attention?’

Suddenly, Sandy had jumped in-between them, looking exasperated. It occurred to Delia that she hadn’t paid him any attention, and so his attempts to communicate with the group must have been overlooked.

He stared glumly at them and Delia felt guilty. She ought to look into his direction once in a while to see what he had to ‘say’ about things. He puffed his cheeks and signed with his sand. A weird shape appeared in the air.

‘Is that… country?’ North asked.

Delia squinted. Sure enough, the outlines of a country were visible. ‘Not just any country,’ she said. ‘France.’

‘France?’ Tooth looked unhappy. ‘Not my department.’

Then the sand changed and a tall building came into view. Delia had seen it before, though only in pictures.

‘The Eiffel Tower…’ She murmured, more to herself than anyone else. ‘Paris! Eros is in Paris?!’

Sandy nodded eagerly.

‘Seriously?’ Jack frowned. ‘The Spirit of Romantic Love is in Paris.’

Sandy shrugged.

‘So Paris…’ Delia mused. ‘But how will we get his attention, I’m not sure we –’ She gasped as a cloud of sand engulfed her and protested. ‘Sandy, what are you doing?’

But Sandy just gestured towards her, and she looked down on herself. The Sandman had draped her in a golden ballgown made entirely of sand.

‘I don’t understand…’ She said, feeling uncomfortable in the dress. She rarely wore anything but jeans and jumpers.

But North laughed, delighted. ‘Of course!’ He exclaimed. When Delia stared at him, still confused, he explained with a soft expression. ‘You, Delia! You will lure out Spirit of Romance.’

Delia took a step back. ‘Are you kidding me?!’


	5. Finding Eros

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to Paris turns into something else

Delia stared at them, those immortal spirits with their peculiar appearances and oddities and just shook her head.

‘No,’ she said. ‘This is a joke. I am supposed to lure out Eros. _Me_??’

‘Well, you ain’t half lost, kiddo.’ Bunny shrugged. ‘Put you in a fancy dress, do something with that hair ‘o yours and here we go – special!’

‘No,’ she repeated. ‘I don’t do beauty queen.’ In fact, it was the last thing she wanted.

‘Ah, don’t be shy.’ Santa clapped her shoulder with a kind smile. ‘You are beautiful.’

Delia wanted to sneer at him but held back; sneering didn’t seem to be something you did to Santa Clause. She clenched her fists instead.

‘Oh, yes!’ Tooth flurried around her in excitement. ‘Some colour on your cheeks and a nice hairdo and a beautiful dress – you’ll be the belle of the ball!’

‘Guys!’ No she was shouting, trying to get their attention, trying to make them listen. ‘If I am definitely something _not_ it’s the belle of the ball! I am clever, I am witty and I am strong,’ she listed and Jack mumbled, ‘Add modest,’ to which she only glared at him.

‘I know who I am,’ she declared. ‘But it’s not some pretty girl in a dress. I refuse.’ She crossed her arms and glowered at them all.

The three Guardians seemed at a loss of words, however Sandy took a step towards her. He held up his palm and his sand formed a replica of Delia’s father. Jamie’s head was floating in the air, that same warm smile on his yellow lips that he used to giver her whenever she was being incredibly stubborn. She was shocked from suddenly seeing his face and an overwhelming grief suddenly took form in her chest. She didn’t even flinch when the tears came. She had cried more in the last 24 hours than for most of her life. She was exhausted, terrified for her father, at a loss of what to do. And the only thing that appeared to her was putting on a dress and going to Paris. She wiped her tears and looked up.

‘Even – even if I did go,’ she said and saw their faces light up. ‘How am I supposed to attract _Eros_ out of all people? I mean… look at me.’ She gestured around her. ‘I’m just… me.’

‘Leave that to me.’ Tooth beamed. ‘I think I’ve got an idea.’

‘And the dress?’ Jack asked. He didn’t seem as invested in the plan as the others were, but he also wasn’t protesting. ‘Where in the world are we going to get that?’

‘That,’ North said and put an arm around Jack’s shoulders. ‘Will be our task.’

‘Wait, what?’

But North just led the complaining Jack swiftly out of the room into one of the extensive North Palace’s corridors. Delia looked after them.

‘What are they…?’ She frowned.

‘Leave that to them.’ Bunny smirked. ‘They’ll get ya a pretty dress.’

Delia grunted. She felt extremely uncomfortable at the thought of wearing a dress, but if it was the best shot at getting her father back – well, then she would do just about anything.

…

Jack trotted grumpily behind North, following him through the corridors, evading Yetis and Elves, all the while pouting because of the way North had hauled him out of the room. He wasn’t sure he wanted to follow through with the plan as Tooth and the others had planned, simply because the idea of objecting Delia to Eros in that way felt rather fishy to him. Not that he didn’t she couldn’t pull it off – no, he was quite confident about that, she was Jamie’s daughter after all – but he felt really protective of the girl, probably because he had watched her grow from a little girl into a confident young woman. He didn’t know what to expect of Eros and Jack didn’t like what he couldn’t expect.

North led him into a room filled with fabrics and bustling with Elves and Yetis – it _was_ only a few days before Christmas. Elves were stitching together dolls’ dresses while Yetis did the actual work of producing princess gowns for young children. They went into one corner of the room where a single dress was showcased. It was a simple gown: blue bodice, white, puffy skirt about knee-length and broad off-the-shoulders straps. Jack frowned.

‘What is that doing there?’ He asked North and noticed that Santa Claus looked faintly sad.

‘That,’ he said and smiled, ‘is treasure. My treasure.’

‘Wha- ?’ Jack had never seen North like that. There was a nostalgia in his gaze that he couldn’t pinpoint. He shifted his gaze to the dress instead.

‘Long ago, hundreds years back, there was beautiful young woman, living with her stepmother and two horrible stepsisters.’ North’s voice was calm and affectionate and Jack didn’t dare interrupt his tale. ‘They made her work, very much, and then there was ball being held in their neighbourhood. Young woman wished for nothing more than to attend ball. Sent her wish out to anyone who she believed in, anyone who would listen. I listened.’ North took a step forward and traced the outline of one sleeve with his thumb. ‘It was Christmas ball and so I gave her dress and glass slippers. She was very happy and that night, night of the ball, she met her future husband.’ He turned away from the dress and Jack couldn’t help but notice the bitterness in his voice. ‘She abandoned childhood and denied my existence or involvement in her luck. Instead, her story was known as that of Cinderella, beautiful girl with glass slippers.’ He fell silent and Jack waited for a while until he spoke. His voice was barely audible with all the bustling going on in the room.

‘North,’ he murmured. ‘You didn’t… you weren’t…’ But he couldn’t get himself to finish his question. North just looked at him gravely and put a hand on his shoulder.

‘Jack, I will give you advice. Never give your heart to human. They cannot return your feelings. Don’t get too close.’

Jack swallowed. Never before had he seen North’s eyes so filled with deep-encrusted hurt.

‘Now,’ said North determinedly and turned back to the dress. He sounded cheerful and upbeat as ever, but Jack knew there was more to his behaviour. ‘I think it needs a bit more… modern touch.’

…

Tooth had done magic. Delia couldn’t describe it any other way. The Tooth Fairy had meddled with her hair and face the entire time that Jack and North had been away and had denied Delia any form of mirror image, so she was only now staring at her own reflection in disbelief. Her cheekbones were visible, her hair in a complicated, curly updo and her brownish green eyes seemed to shine more brightly than ever and for once, Delia knew what her father had meant. Even though she had his eyes, his hair, even his chin, she felt she looked incredibly like her mother. She turned to Tooth.

‘This…’ she murmured, trying to find the right words. ‘Tooth, wow, thank you!’

‘Ah, don’t stress it,’ the fairy said, but she was blushing. ‘You can’t enhance what isn’t already there.’

Sandy was applauding enthusiastically in the background and even Bunny gave her an approving nod.

‘Lookin’ good, kiddo.’

Delia could feel her cheeks redden and looked to the floor. ‘Thanks.’

Just then Jack and North returned to the Earth room and when Delia looked at them, Jack stopped short. His eyes widened and he stared. He was holding something white-blue in his arms that Delia could only identify as “the dress”. North studied her and cried out in delight.

‘Delia, you look marvellous!’

‘Thank you, North.’ Delia smiled. North had a natural cheerfulness to him that warmed her heart.

They both approached her, Jack still staring shamelessly. He then looked up at Tooth, who was communicating hurriedly with her fairies.

‘What did you do to her?!’ He asked, his voice in utter shock.

Tooth frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘This isn’t Delia.’ He pointed at her and, once again Delia could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, though this time certainly not from embarrassment,

‘Excuse me?’ She asked, putting her hands on her hips.

‘You look…’

‘Beautiful?’ North suggested.

‘Mature?’ Bunny added.

‘Graceful?’ Tooth chimed in.

Sandy built a sand-flower and a question mark.

‘Wrong,’ Jack concluded.

Delia huffed, anger and bashfulness both rummaging in her stomach. ‘Well it’s a good thing I don’t have to catch _your_ interest then, isn’t it?’ She asked, her voice icy, and turned to Sandy. ‘Okay, I’ve got make-up on, Jack’s got the dress. At least I’m assuming that’s the dress?’ She gave him a haughty glance and now it was Jack’s turn to get het up.

‘In fact,’ he said and held it up for her to see, ‘it is. And you will notice how it’s much too precious to be worn by someone who doesn’t appreciate it.’

Delia stared and her sharp remark got stuck in the back of her throat. The dress was breathtaking. A fluffy white tutu skirt dangled from a light blue bodice and the centre of the chest area was decorated with glistening ice crystals. The same crystals snaked around the off-shoulder straps, pointing into thin air, reflecting and bending the light that fell on them and casting rainbow dots to the walls and the ground. The white skirt was overflowing with snow flowers that glittered and sparkled. Delia had never seen anything like it before. She swallowed and turned back to Sandy, her voice shaking ever-so-slightly.

‘Now what?’ She asked him. ‘You were the one who suggested Paris.

Sandy shrugged and Bunny quickly interrupted.

‘Actually, kiddo, Sandy an’ I have been talkin’ about this while Tooth was… decoratin’ you.’

‘Hey!’ Tooth complained, offended by his choice of words.

Bunny ignored her. ‘It’s ten days to Christmas and, though we know you haven’t properly slept in a while, we think you should take your shot at the traditional Christmas ball in _Amerue_ manor.’

Delia blinked. ‘I won’t even try to pronounce that,’ she told him dryly. ‘And how am I supposed to get into some private ball in a fancy manor, huh?’

‘Oh, well,’ Bunny grinned. ‘We’re not Guardians for nothing, ya know!’

…

Jack was grumpy. After a lot of protesting and complaining from the both of them it had been decided that they team up for mission “Get Eros”, since Christmas was coming up, Sandy and Tooth couldn’t just quit their nightly duties and Bunny had simply laughed when Jack had suggested he go to the ball with Delia. So now, after taking one of Bunny’s tunnels to Paris he was standing outside a public bathroom, waiting for Delia to get changed into his snow dress. He still hadn’t gotten over the way her face changed with Tooth’s make-up and just thinking about it made him feel itchy. Delia was a little girl, not that ladylike young woman that had suddenly stared him in the face when he had returned with North. Something about it had made his skin crawl and his insides tumble and all he had wanted was to have Delia back; Jamie’s sweet little baby girl. He was still glaring at the ground when he heard her voice.

‘Jack?’

He looked up and all the air was sucked out of his lungs in an instant. The dress fit perfectly. It was a full moon that night and his icy decoration sparkled in the silver light. Delia had flushed a slight pink and was looking at him, her entire face screaming insecurity. He knew she wanted him to say something, to reassure her, but all he could hear was North’s voice, back in the dress room, warning him not to get too close to humans. He scoffed and put on his best neutral face.

‘It looks strange,’ he told her.

She stared at him, big-eyed.

‘What?!’

‘Unnatural. You’re not the type for a dress.’ He shrugged.

‘Hey, it was _your_ idea!’ She protested, getting into his face. ‘Do you think I want to do this?’

He returned her gesture, his stomach burning up. ‘It was _never_ my idea! In fact, I think this plan is stupid. You getting into a dress, seducing Eros? What a joke!’

For a second he saw tears glistening in the corners of her green eyes and he thought he had taken his act too far. But Delia caught herself and glared at him.

‘Oh yeah?’ She asked and stalked past him. ‘Well, we’ll see about that. And you,’ she whirled around. ‘Leave me alone until I’ll call for you. I cannot look for Eros with you at my heels.’

And with that, she strode away towards a grand manor glistening in warm golden light. Jack grumbled and let the wind lift him up into the air, seeking refuge in the nearest park.

…

Delia stared in awe at the giant ballroom that opened up in front of her. Despite her anger and her worries she had easily gotten into the event thanks to the last-minute ticket Bunny had whipped up out of thin air. Delia hadn’t asked how, she didn’t want to know. She had entered the house and strolled into the main room. A small chamber orchestra was playing classical tunes at the far end of the room and some people were listening, while others were dancing to the music. There was a large buffet table at one side of the room and people with small plates and glasses filled with bubbling golden champagne were scattered along the room. She pondered having a snack or two, to calm her nervous stomach, when something caught her eye.

Out from the crowd a young man approached her. He was maybe eighteen and he strode towards her with a purposeful smile. Delia couldn’t help but stare. This boy was beautiful; he looked like a younger version of Eddie Redmayne, Delia’s favourite actor, all lanky, reddish-brown hair and freckled cheeks. His smile ran over the whole of his face, just like she loved it and the navy waistcoat over a grey shirt gave his adolescent frame just the right shape. She could feel herself flush as he stopped right in front of her.

The boy cocked his head and said: ‘Bonjour.’

Delia stood for a second, petrified, then responded. ‘Oh, um, _bonjour_ ,’ she mumbled, no doubt with a horrible American accent to her very basic French. ‘ _Je ma… pelle…_ Delia,’ she introduced herself. She thought it was something like that, anyway.

The boy chuckled and his eyes glistened with amusement. His irises, she noticed, were different; they didn’t have Eddie Redmayne’s brown-speckled grey, but rather were a brilliant light blue. Something about this boy seemed oddly familiar to her, though she couldn’t for the life of her tell what.

‘There’s no need to speak French,’ he said in perfect English.

Delia sighed with relief. Maintaining a conversation would have been impossible otherwise. ‘Oh thank God,’ she said. ‘My French is useless.’

The boy chortled and held out his hand. ‘Can I have this dance?’ He asked, and Delia could feel her cheeks redden. Everything in his posture, poise and attitude screamed _Gentleman_ , even at such a young age. She took his hand timidly and nodded.

Now she didn’t consider herself the best dancer; in fact, she thought she was mediocre at best, but something about the boy’s movements, the way he held her in his arms and led her over the dance floor made her spin naturally to the music in a way she’d never experienced before. She looked up at him, admiring his angular features from her close-up perspective. He smiled down at her and continued spinning her around.

‘That dress is beautiful,’ he said and added, ‘Delia, was it?’

She nodded, a bit dizzy from the spinning. ‘I don’t know your name.’

‘That’s because I haven’t told you.’ He had a mysterious expression on his face as he said those words.

‘I see,’ Delia mumbled and swayed in his arms. Usually, a statement like that would have made her suspicious. Usually, she would have scowled and asked him for his name. Usually, she would have stopped dancing. But this boy was anything but usual. He seemed so familiar and she felt so at home in his embrace that she didn’t question anything. Somewhere in the back of her mind there was a nagging voice, telling her to be careful, telling her not to get too caught up in this, but she ignored the voice and beamed at him.

The song ended and they stood in the middle of the dance floor, locked in the close hold one adopted while dancing, then the boy smirked and gestured with his head towards one of the large glass doors that led outside. He led her out on a terrace into a garden and Delia followed willingly. The voice in the back of her head grew louder, but she shooed it away. He had taken her hand and pulled her along on a small winding path that led to a pond, the smooth surface of the water glistening with the light of the moon and the fairly lights that decorated this part of the garden. The greens were, though she barely noticed it, gorgeous and incredibly well maintained, but then she assumed that most gardens adjoining such a grand manor would be.

They sat down on a bench overlooking the pond and Delia gazed at it, feeling a bit lightheaded.

‘Delia,’ the boy said and she looked at him. He traced the outline of her chin with his fingers and she leaned into the gesture, her heart fluttering in her chest. This was new, this was incredible, this felt so good. When he started closing in on her, she stared up into his beautiful eyes and studied the icy blue of his irises. Why did they draw her in like this? So familiar… Suddenly it felt like lightning had struck her and she swiftly moved backwards, away from the strange boy.

‘Hey,’ he made, and reached for her, but she stood up, putting her hands protectively in front of her body.

‘Who are you?’ She asked sharply. The fuzzy feeling had vanished from her brain and everything seemed all the more clearer for it. Everything she saw seemed outlined perfectly, she could hear the pond splashing gently behind her and even the music and the festivities in the house which was not as far away from them as she’d expected.

The boy stared at her for a moment, then smirked. ‘Well, well,’ he said, standing up and raising his hands in defeat. ‘Who knew I’d ever find a human who could break my spell.’

The way he said those words, _human_ and _spell_ , made Delia click and she squinted her eyes.

‘Eros,’ she said, his identity suddenly clear as day.

He inclined his head and approached her slowly. He was still gorgeous, but the rosy haze that had surrounded him before had disappeared. ‘Indeed.’

Delia didn’t hesitate another second. She put her hands to her mouth and called: ‘Jack!’ Nevermind their little squabble, nevermind her confusing emotions, who she needed now was a Guardian. A Guardian to protect her from the predator in front of her. And, as if he’d never been far away, he was at her side in seconds. His hand was on her shoulder and when she looked up she could see him glare at Eros with open hostility as she had rarely seen it in his face.

‘Oh, my.’ Eros took a step back, but looked otherwise unfazed. ‘Jack Frost. Now _that’s_ what I a call an unexpected surprise.’

‘You’re Eros,’ Jack concluded.

‘Pleasure.’ Eros took a little demi-bow, for drama only, Delia suspected. ‘But who,’ he asked and stepped closer to Delia again, ‘are you?’ Jack half-shielded her from him, but Delia decided the danger was gone. She always felt perfectly safe in Jack’s presence.

‘Like I told you. I’m Delia. Delia Bennett. And I need you to help me find Agape.’


	6. Memories Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delia has a nervous breakdown

‘I’m Ginger!’ Eros complained for probably the thirtieth time. ‘Look at me!’

After first explaining her situation to him, Eros had invited her (and, begrudgingly, Jack) to his apartment in Paris, where he had immediately stepped in front of the nearest mirror (there were a lot of mirrors in his apartment) and groaned. Apparently, he didn’t appreciate his appearance nearly as much as Delia did.

‘There’s nothing wrong with that!’ She commented.

‘I don’t think you understand, hair isn’t supposed t be red!’ He was pouting and Delia almost laughed. Then she remembered him trying to put her under a spell and frowned.

‘Why don’t you change your hair colour then, if it bothers you so much?’ Jack grumbled. He and Eros hadn’t exchanged a great many of words, but there was an obvious aversion and tension between them from the moment they’d met.

Eros clicked his tongue and Jack’s words and turned towards the two of them. Delia and Jack had sat down on Eros’ sofa and were watching him fret in front of the mirror again and again.

‘I can’t,’ he explained, rolling his eyes, as if that was obvious. ‘I look like what attracts the person who’s caught my interest.’ He pointed at Delia and she blushed immediately. She couldn’t deny she found him attractive, but now that she knew the reason, she was way more cautious around him.

Jack stared at Delia with disgust. ‘You like _that_?!’ He gestured vaguely towards Eros who scowled immediately. Apparently, being referred to as _that_ was not on his bucket list.

‘Nevermind that, Jack,’ Delia brushed it off, though her stomach was still in a knot over the whole affair. She wasn’t sure how she had managed to attract Eros, but she suspected Jack’s snow-dress had played a major role in that. She was still wearing the gorgeous gown and felt incredibly out of place beside Jack. ‘So… can you tell us where Agape is, Eros?’

Eros took a step away from the mirror and looked at her with a sober expression. It seemed like he was studying her, gauging what to tell her, how far to go with his assistance. Then, in a split second, the tension he’d built was gone and he was shrugging.

‘Sorry, hun, no can do.’ He turned to look into the mirror again, tugging at his short, red hair.

‘Hey!’ Beside her, Jack got to his feet. ‘What do you mean? Stop pushing us around!’

Eros shot him a dry glance through the looking-glass. ‘Well,’ he said and faced them once more. His blue eyes were staring straight at Delia in a way that made her shift uncomfortably on the sofa. ‘I cannot help you because I don’t know where she is. In fact,’ he made a nonchalant gesture and plopped down on the armchair opposite, ‘I haven’t seen her in decades.’

Delia felt like all blood was drained from her body as a cold feeling settled in the deepest pit of her stomach. She opened her mouth to say something, but not a single word escaped her lips. Eros had been their last shot, a desperate attempt at getting her father back. She hadn’t believed it when she had actually caught his attention. And now? Now all was lost. She’d never see Jamie again.

‘Delia!’ Jack called out and she slowly turned to look at him. It felt as if she was seeing the world through a TV screen, rather than experiencing this moment herself. Jack stared at her, his eyes big, and shook his head. ‘No,’ he said, bringing his fingers to her cheek and stroking it gently. ‘No,’ he repeated, ‘there has to be another way!’ He looked at Eros angrily. ‘We _will_ find Jamie!’

‘Look.’ Eros shrugged. ‘I’d love to help, honestly,’ he added when Jack shot him a grim look, ‘but I cannot tell you what I don’t know.’

Delia felt empty. She thought she’d cry, but maybe she’d just simply run out of tears. She got to her feet, albeit shakily, and started into the direction of the door, but she’d barely taken a step when Jack was by her side, supporting her.

‘Hey, Delia, wait,’ he murmured as she stumbled on. ‘I don’t think you should move right now.’

She knew he meant well, but she needed to leave, needed to get back to North. Jack had been right: there must be another way and she’d find it. She had no time to idle around in Paris. So she just simply shook her head and kept walking. The two of them were almost out of the door when Eros suddenly came sprinting after them.

‘Hey, wait!’ He cried. ‘I’ve got an idea.’

Delia stopped, but she didn’t dare look up, didn’t dare raise more hope in her empty chest, so she kept staring at the ground.

‘What?’ Jack’s voice sounded scary, icy, almost like the way he spoke to Pitch.

‘Well, see, Agape and I we never mingled that much… said she didn’t like me fooling around with hearts… whatever… anyway, I might not be her best bud, but I know who is.’

Despite her determination not to get carried away, Delia could feel her heart beat faster. Was it possible?

‘Who is it?’ Jack asked, still being her voice in the silence that had taken charge of her.

‘Storge, of course! That little rascal has always been the closest to Agape out of all of us.’

Now Delia looked up. Eros looked extremely excited and it made his youthful face gleam with pride. Even though she shouldn’t, Delia couldn’t help but think of Newt Scamander, Eddie Redmayne’s character in _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_. It was curious. ‘Storge…’ she repeated. ‘The love of family.’

‘That’s right.’ Eros nodded eagerly.

‘And you know where to find him?’ Jack asked sceptically.

‘Them,’ he corrected him. ‘They don’t really like to be labelled. And, yes, in fact, I do.’ Now Eros had a superior look on his face and Delia could feel Jack’s arm around her shoulders tense. She straightened and Jack looked at her, slowly lowering his supportive grip around her.

‘Eros,’ she asked, unsure why she wanted an answer ‘why are you helping us?’

Eros’ face changed again and now he was the self-assured, curious young man Delia had first encountered what felt like centuries ago, even though it was barely a couple of hours.

‘Honestly? I’m not sure.’ He took a step towards her. ‘But there’s something special about you.’ He gently raised her chin, forcing her to look into his blue eyes. ‘And don’t mistake me, I don’t mean the, albeit, stunning dress you’re wearing.’ He quickly glanced at Jack and back. ‘It’s _you_. I feel like I’ve met you before. And I cannot for the life of me explain why. So, I guess you could say I’m curious.’ He let her go and grinned confidently. ‘I’ll promise to help you find Storge, _if_ you let me accompany you on your trip. I’m not willing to let you go just yet.’

…

‘Not a chance!’ Jack protested. He was badly holding back from using his ice powers and smacking that confident smirk off Eros’ face. He had felt an adversity for the Guardian of Passion from the very start, and his creepy advances on Delia did not help.

Eros narrowed his eyes. ‘I hardly think this is your decision to make,’ he said in a dangerously low voice, but Jack wasn’t about to back down.

He stepped forward, into the other Guardians’ space. ‘This is a group effort and a group decision and you’re not coming with,’ he growled.

Eros’ eyes were burning now, and Jack was almost afraid that electricity would spark from them. Almost.

‘Oh yeah? I am a free spirit, I can go wherever I want to. You want me to stay? Make me.’

Jack was very close to losing control. He’d grabbed his staff hard and blue sparks were glowing just underneath his fingertips. ‘No problem.’

‘Guys!’ Delia burst between them, dispersing the tension that had built as she pushed them away from each other. ‘This is not helping. Jack.’ She turned towards him and Jack gulped when he saw the angry glimmer in her eyes. ‘Eros is, quite literally, the only chance we have at finding my father. He says he wants to come along? He’s coming along.’

Behind her back Eros smiled at Jack smugly and again a wave of anger surged through Jack’s system. In a second, though, Delia had turned towards Eros, who took a step backwards. Her stare must have been equally as intimidating.

‘And Eros,’ she stepped towards him, poking her finger into his chest. ‘If you _ever_ pull a stunt like this again, if you ever so much as _think about_ putting me under another spell, I will consider you an outlaw and Jack can do whatever he wants with you.’ Her voice lowered dangerously. ‘And that is _not_ something you want to experience, believe me.’

Now it was Jack’s turn to shoot Eros a smug smile and the other spirit wrinkled his nose. ‘Fine,’ he pressed through closed teeth.

Delia sighed. ‘Okay, now that that is cleared up – let’s go!’

Eros stopped and stared at her, frowning.

‘What!?’ She barked, much to Jack’s satisfaction.

‘Sweetie, no offense, but you want to go like _this_?’ He pointed at Jack’s snow dress which, admittedly, would not be the best battle gear.

Delia rolled her eyes. ‘Obviously not. Jack, where did you put my stuff?’

She turned to him and he stared back, wide-eyed, nervously thumping his fingers on his staff.

‘Er… your stuff?’

She narrowed her eyes. ‘Yes, my stuff. The change of clothes I left at the public toilet where I got changed? My backpack?’

‘Uh, they’re… probably still there…’ Jack let his voice trail off, too sure of the storm that was headed his way. And, as he thought, Delia didn’t lose a heartbeat to spring at him.

‘ _What_!?’ Her voice had gone up a pitch. ‘You didn’t take them with you!?’

Jack put up his hands in defence and backed away. ‘I-I didn’t know I was supposed to!’ He tried. ‘You didn’t tell me.’

‘That’s common sense! Goddamnit Jack, my teeth are in that backpack!’

‘Your teeth!?’ Eros stared at her, disgusted. ‘That’s… curious.’

Delia huffed. ‘Tooth gave them to me, Eros, they contain my memories or something.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I don’t know either, but I’m not giving them up like this.’ She returned her gaze to Jack. ‘We’re going back there, _now_.’

‘Now!?’ Jack stared in defiance. ‘Don’t you think we’ve got more important things-’

‘ _Now_ , Jack!’ She demanded and he knew he didn’t stand a chance.

…

‘Did I hear right?’ Eros asked for the third time. ‘We’re going to a public toilet to collect your teeth?’

Delia growled. She was beginning to get very annoyed by this flamboyant spirit. ‘For the sake of God, yes, Eros. Public toilet. Teeth. Now will you please drop it?’ She glared at him and he stared back, pouting, but didn’t say another word on the topic.

Beside her, Jack was floating impatiently. ‘Look, why don’t you let me just whizz there and get them?’ He asked, equally as repetitive as Eros.

‘Again: no. They’re my teeth. Who knows what you’d do with them?’

‘I wouldn’t do anything,’ Jack murmured, almost inaudibly and Delia rolled her eyes.

‘We’ve been through this. I don’t trust you.’

Jack looked hurt and Delia immediately regretted her words. The pain in his eyes ironically hurt her equally as much, and she tried to save the conversation.

‘Not with this, at least,’ she added and sighed. ‘Look, Jack, they’re a gift by Tooth and I don’t know why, but I think they’re going to be important some time soon.’

‘Then I’ll just fly you over,’ Jack offered. ‘Scoop you up and we’ll collect them together.’

‘Nu-uh, no way!’ Eros butted in before Delia could reply. ‘You’re not leaving me behind. That would just be an excuse for you to get rid of me.’

Jack glared at him, the turned away, pouting, and Delia suspected that Eros had hit the mark.

‘We’re going together, the three of us, no buts. Now stop fighting, guys. Honestly, you’re almost unbearable.’

‘It’s not my fault Mr. Frosty here is such a prat.’ Eros shrugged.

‘ _You_ …’ Jack started, but Delia intervened, her nerves aggravated.

‘ _Stop it!_ ’ She hissed. ‘ _Both_ of you,’ she added and shot a warning glance at Eros, who just rolled his eyes and put his hands behind his head, walking leisurely.

‘I’m not a prat,’ Jack murmured between his teeth, just about loud enough for Delia to hear, but she decided to let it go. If they were to work as a team, the boys would have to learn to get along with each other.

She understood why they weren’t, at the moment, very keen of each other. Their very natures seemed to be polar opposites, Eros, flirty, romantic, nonchalant, and Jack, though the spirit of snow and fun, still very serious about his Guardian duties, and about their mission. She could understand how Eros’ no-care attitude aggravated him – it aggravated her, too – but deep down she felt that Eros really wasn’t that bad. If he wasn’t momentarily seducing anyone with one of his spells. She still thought it unnerving that he appeared as what she found most attractive, not just because it blatantly waved her peculiar taste in men in front of her face, but also because she had to constantly be on edge around him. Even when he wasn’t putting her under a spell she felt drawn to him, his freckles, his wide smile, his clear blue eyes. She glanced at him, then at Jack, the both of them staring stubbornly forward, neither initiating a conversation and her heart skipped a beat. She _knew_ ; she’d known from the moment she’d backed away from Eros at the pond, when she’d looked so deeply into his eyes. It was his eyes that unnerved her the most and the reason was ridiculously simple: the eyes were Jack’s. The brilliant blue, accented with sparkling white that all but made her think of a brilliant winter day, snow covering the ground, and icicles glistening in the sun. _I look like what attracts the person who’s caught my interest_ , Eros had said. And Delia was very, very unwilling to admit that, yes, he did look exactly like what attracted her. Admitting that would mean admitting that somewhere in her mind Jack’s eyes captivated her, didn’t let her go, and that she was on the edge of being attracted to him. She scowled at that and pressed her fingers into her palm. She couldn’t and wouldn’t be attracted to an immortal snow spirit. Especially not when she had more pressing matters to attend.

Like her kidnapped dad.

She made a frustrated noise and looked up ahead. She saw that the public toilet where she’d changed was coming into view and, for the first time this evening, Delia felt like something was finally going right. Her stomach was still a nervous pit, as she wasn’t sure whether or not her belongings would still be there, but hope was all she had going for herself at the moment, so she clung to it like the safety line that it was.

All three of them accelerated their steps, and Delia all but rushed into the cubicle where she’d left her things behind. She looked around, her heart stuttered, then stopped. The bag was gone.

‘No!’ She screamed, leaving the cubicle, frantically searching for the bag. ‘Nonononononono!’

‘Delia!’ Jack burst into the room, Eros at his heels, and she glared at him through wet eyes.

‘It’s gone, _gone_ , Jack!’ She yelled. ‘How could you leave it here?’ She knew she was being irrational, she knew she had as much fault at this as he had. When she’d left the toilet, she’d not thought about her things, only about how she looked and whether Jack would approve. He was making her nervous, stupid even, reckless; and that was why she was mad at him.

…

Jack stared at Delia, a feeling of dread washing over him like an icy wave. ‘Delia, no, I –,’ he started, unsure of what to say, or how to explain, but she ignored him and rushed out of the toilet. He hadn’t wanted this; losing the teeth was only part of the tragedy, but that look in Delia’s eyes as she’d yelled at him? His heart had cracked almost audibly right then. He gathered what little spirit he had left and sped after her. She was already 20 feet away from the toilet, stomping down the road in a senseless fury.

‘Delia!’ He called after her, but she ignored him, just kept walking. Then she stopped, suddenly, turned around and looked at him. Her expression felt like a dagger in his heart, piercing, painful. He understood, then, that this wasn’t solely about the loss of her belongings; surely, he thought, she blamed him for more than that, blamed him for Jamie’s disappearance, for entangling her little family in Pitch’s power play. She had just held back until then, until that moment that had pushed her over the edge. The grief, the pain, the fear, they must all have accumulated within her and now they were bubbling over. Delia didn’t say a word, and she didn’t have to. Jack understood perfectly well.

When he spoke, his voice was barely audible, only a scratch against an icy window. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, trying to lay all his emotions, raw and untamed, into the phrase.

Delia’s expression changed, softened, maybe? But not in a gentle, forgiving way. A single tear streaked down her cheek, leaving a black stain underneath her eye and she shook her head.

Before Jack could do anything, Eros stepped forward. Jack had completely forgotten about the other Guardian’s existence, but Eros clearly had watched their fight. He stared down at Delia and then, suddenly, whacked her forehead. It wasn’t hard, Jack was sure, it couldn’t have hurt, but it snapped Delia out of her stupor. She stared up at Eros, towering above her and her mouth fell open. Jack started towards them when she finally spoke.

‘You… hit me,’ she said, matter-of-factly.

‘Well,’ Eros crossed his arms. ‘You forbade me to put you under a spell.’

‘What…?’ Delia looked beyond confused but, curiously, not angry, as Jack would have expected.

‘You needed someone to smack some sense into you, ‘s all.’ Eros’ expression was unfazed as he raised an eyebrow and clicked his tongue. ‘Look, princess, no offence, right? But those were just teeth.’

Now Delia’s anger seemed to return. ‘Memories!’ She shouted. ‘They contain memories!’

‘What? And you don’t have any for yourself to guide you?’ Eros asked.

Delia looked as taken aback as Jack felt. ‘What are you talking about?’ She asked.

‘I have no idea why you’re so worked up about this, okay? Delia.’ Eros leaned in, putting a hand on her shoulder. ‘Listen. You lost some teeth, some memories, big deal. I thought you were out to find your father?’

Delia’s eyes widened even more. ‘Yes, but –’

‘You came to Paris, wore a magical dress, caught my attention, convinced me to help you and now you’re giving up over some _memories_?’ He asked incredulously. ‘If that’s the case,’ he shrugged, ‘I’m outta here. I’ve got no interest in a weak-hearted human.’

‘Weak-hearted?’ Jack stepped towards him, now angry at Eros’ rude words, but to his surprise, Delia stifled some laughter. Jack looked at her.

‘You’re right,’ she said, her voice full of wonder.

‘What?’ Jack protested. ‘No he’s not! You’re not weak-hearted!’

‘Exactly!’ Delia looked up, beaming at Jack and for a second, the world froze. Her smile captured him, his breath catching in his throat, his heart stumbling over itself, and then… the moment was gone as Delia broke eye-contact and looked at Eros instead, determined. ‘You’re not going anywhere,’ she told him. ‘They’re _my_ teeth, _my_ memories. I’m sure, in time, if I need them, they’ll come back to me. Take me to Storge, Eros, and we’ll go from there. If I’ve learned anything on this trip, then it is not to give up. I _will_ save my father, at all costs.’

Eros smirked. ‘There,’ he said, almost tenderly. ‘Those are the eyes that caught my attention.’

Jack looked at Delia, _really_ looked at her, and knew exactly what Eros meant. There was a fire in her eyes, burning bright, determined and unwavering, a fire that had flickered shortly earlier, a fire that Eros had been able to reignite. And Jack all but cursed himself when he felt the ugly knot in his chest as he thought that _he_ should have been the one to save Delia from her despair. He closed his eyes, clenched his teeth, and pushed the painful knot further away into a corner of his awareness, so as to never let it disturb him again.


	7. Through the Portal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our Heroes need a break

‘So?’ Delia asked, back to her senses and embraced by an almost intoxicating clarity. ‘Where to now?’

‘Storge,’ Eros said, the earlier smile still playing around the corners of his mouth, ‘is, as you’d expect a very homely spirit. Every season they spend in one particular place: Spring, when Easter is celebrated, in Greece, where the joy and family time are most prevalent.’ He put one finger up and continued counting. ‘From 1st of June they spend their time in Laos, when Children’s day is celebrated, and during autumn, for the Día de Muertes, they stay in Mexico, no surprise there; after all, that’s when the Mexicans celebrate the family members that have passed.’

‘And winter?’ Delia asked, practically hanging on Eros’ lips for all the suspension that he built.

‘Well, think about it, Delia.’ Eros smirked, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. ‘What is the single most celebrated family time in winter? And where do people go waaay overboard with their celebrations, hm?’

Realization washed over Delia like a bucketful of water had been emptied over her head. Her face contorted, eyes rolling to the sky and she groaned.

‘What?’ Jack asked, clearly frustrated not to be included in the revelation. ‘What is it?’

Delia turned to him, face blank, and told him the dreadful news. ‘He’s talking about Christmas time. Christmas time in the United States.’ _Great_.

Eros inclined his head in her direction like the perfect gentleman. ‘What the lady said.’

‘But we’re in _Paris_ ,’ Delia pointed out, trying to shove away the fact that the place she least wanted to be right now was a Christmas-spirit filled USA. ‘How are we supposed to get to the US?’

Eros just shrugged. ‘Well, I assumed that whoever slipped you the ticket for the most prestigious winter ball in all of Paris,’ he raised an eyebrow, ‘would be able to get us a flight to New York, don’t you think?’

‘It doesn’t work like that,’ Jack said, mustering Eros grimly. ‘We’re not super rich or anything.’

Eros shot him a cold sideways glance. ‘Whelp, then I can’t help you.’

Jack took the bait immediately and opened his mouth to reply, when their little squabble was interrupted by Delia. She had had enough, tension building in her stomach again and again, encountering one problem after the other, falling down, getting up, falling down, getting up. All the frustration had gathered in her throat and she had let it out in a loud, throaty, worldless shout. Now she was rewarded with the boys staring at her, with something akin to fear and that almost made her laugh again. Almost.

‘For all that’s good in the world!’ She exclaimed. ‘Can’t we be lucky at least once?!’

‘Uhm,’ Eros cleared his throat, looking at her with superiority and hurt at the same time. ‘I guess getting to know me must have used up all your luck for tonight,’ he told her.

‘Shut up, Eros,’ she replied bluntly and he blinked at her. When he still didn’t move after 30 seconds, she rolled her eyes. ‘I don’t need sass right now, that’s all. Yes, meeting you was lucky and I’m glad you’re helping us, but… New York…’ She sighed.

‘Delia,’ Jack said and she looked up at him. He looked almost surprised himself. ‘Actually, I know a way.’

‘What?’

‘A way to get to New York. I mean, we’d have to stop at the North Pole first, but…’ He shrugged.

Delia furrowed her eyebrows. ‘Jack, what are you talking about?’

‘I, uhm, got this from North.’ He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a tiny snow globe, much smaller than the one the elf had given him before.

When Delia still blinked at him, uncomprehending, he quickly explained. ‘It’s a portal back to the North Pole,’ he said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

‘A portal?’ Delia studied the snow globe. Inside, she could actually see Santa’s home base in the snow decked mountains. ‘Whoa…’ She made. The design was so intricate, it almost seemed lifelike.

‘And you couldn’t have told us that sooner?’ Eros’ voice interrupted her fascinated gaze and she looked up at him. He looked at Jack as if he was the biggest idiot in the universe.

‘I _just_ remembered,’ Jack spat through grit teeth.

And _there_ was the tension again. Eros’ and Jack’s animosity for each other was so thick, Delia was sure that if she extended a hand between the two of them she could actually feel it.

‘Jack,’ she intervened quickly, drawing his attention back to her, ‘how does it work?’

He looked at her, puzzled for a second, then his head snapped up as he came back into his thoughts. ‘Oh,’ he said and Delia wondered whether she could see a slight flush on his snow white cheeks. ‘You smash it.’ And with those words he threw the snow globe to the ground. As it hit the concrete a magical portal opened up in the air before them. When Delia had expected to see right into the centre of the Earth Room, she could only see a black nothingness between the confines of a glowing ring of light. It seemed dark, and all-devouring and Delia swallowed hard.

‘You’re sure this works?’ She asked, looking up at him. Walking right into a black void was not her preferred way of travel, she decided.

‘Absolutely,’ Jack announced. ‘Only…’

‘Only what?’ Eros asked sharply. He looked… worried, as if he trusted North’s magic even less than Delia did. She was pleasantly surprised to see another expression on him than smugness or aggression; it suited his innocent face much better and Delia’s heartbeat sped up. She immediately chided herself for it, seeing as Eros was simply a physical representation of what she found attractive in men. Of _course_ some nice personality traits would make him look even better.

‘ _Only_ ,’ Jack repeated, voice sharper this time. ‘We’re going to have to hold hands. It’s a one-jump-only portal.

Delia took a sharp breath in as her eyes slid down to Jack’s long, slender fingers. ‘Hold… hands?’ She asked slowly.

‘Yes.’

She looked up at him and found him locking her gaze with his, words unspoken floating in the space between them. Then he extended his hand and Delia carefully, _very_ carefully, reached out to find it. The contact sent tendrils of electricity into her fingertips and up her palms, and she took a deep breath, trying to calm her speeding heart. She didn’t dare look Jack in the eyes and so she faced the portal.

‘Okay,’ she said.

‘Remember me?’ Eros asked, as he slipped his left hand into her right and intertwined their fingers and now both of Delia’s hands were bristling with energy.

She wasn’t really used to such intimate physical contact with anyone but her father, and she found that her trip so far had left her emotionally and physically exhausted, so she could do very little to fight the sensation that was heating up her palms and her cheeks. She cursed herself for her weak will and stepped towards the portal.

‘Let’s go.’

…

Jack’s hands had always been cold, even back when he had been a human. It was one of the things he distinctly remembered about himself, even when everything else was blurry. They were cold in summer, cold in winter, cold when the sun shone, cold when the rain fell.

They were not cold right now.

Delia’s fingers around his did something to him that he didn’t want to explore any further, but his palms were burning up with an inexplicable heat. It made his blood boil and he could feel it flood hot and heavy through his veins. His other hand bristled with icy energy around his staff, probably in an attempt to even out the odd sensation and he very dearly hoped that this did not disturb North’s portal magic. He had no desire to be stuck in a black void forever, even if he _was_ holding Delia’s hand. No, he corrected himself, _especially because_ he was holding Delia’s hand. He wanted to let go of her as soon as possible. Yes, that was exactly what he –

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden ringing in his ears, then a blinding light and suddenly the three of them were standing in the middle of North’s Earth Room. North, Bunny, Tooth and Sandy were looking up from a very intent conversation and their faces lit up when they saw the three newcomers. Even Bunny granted him an appreciative smile.

‘Look who’s back,’ Bunny said, mustering them carefully.

‘Delia!’ North approached them, arms wide, going in for one of his bone-crushing hugs. Delia squeaked a little when his arms closed around her and Jack couldn’t help but find it endearing. ‘Jack!’

‘No thanks,’ Jack said, evading North skilfully. ‘I like the state of my ribs as they are.’

‘You sure?’ Eros asked out of the corner of his mouth, the condescending tone in his voice clearly carrying over.

Jack was ready to retaliate when North turned to Eros.

‘And you…’ He looked at him in wonder. ‘You must be famous Eros.’ Quicker than Eros could react he found himself in North’s arms and Jack smirked deviously. Served that smug blabbermouth right.

‘Jack,’ Delia murmured quietly and he looked down at her. Her face was slightly red and she was avoiding eye contact. ‘Could you… I mean would you mind…?’

She raised their still interlinked hands and Jack pulled away as quickly as if he’d been burned. Which, he mused, might be entirely plausible, considering the heat that was pulsing through his palm.

‘Sorry,’ he murmured, without looking at her. Hadn’t he told himself to let go of her hand as soon as they’d stepped out of the portal?

‘Jack, Delia!’ Now Tooth and Sandy were upon them, exited expressions open on their faces.

Sandy created a heart engulfed in flames, then an arrow that pointed towards Eros, then a question mark, and Delia nodded.

‘Yes, it’s Eros,’ she told him. ‘We found him.’

‘You caught his interest?’ Tooth babbled. ‘Oh, of course you caught his interest, look at you, with that hairdo and your beautiful face and,’ she sighed, ‘in this dress!’

Delia laughed, her cheeks flushed with red and she reached for the end of her usual braid which, of course, wasn’t there, but her fingers still rubbed along her collarbone. ‘I was lucky,’ she said, smiling bashfully.

‘You most certainly were,’ Eros interrupted, joining their conversation with a flourish and the hairs on Jack’s neck bristled immediately.

Tooth giggled near-hysterically when Eros grabbed her hand and placed a kiss on it. Sandy studied them with a blank expression, then he caught Jack’s eye, gestured to Eros, and raised his eyebrows. Jack snorted quietly and nodded. _I know_.

‘So, why did ya come back, fellas?’ Bunny asked. ‘And what’s with that clown?’

‘Hey!’ Eros turned to Bunny, looking deeply insulted. ‘The red hair’s her fault.’ He pointed at Delia and she rolled her eyes.

‘It’s really not that bad, Eros!’ She told him.

Jack doubted that Bunny’s comment had anything to do with Eros’ hair and so he stifled some laughter, happy to have found some appreciated company in Sandy and Bunny as they let their critical gazes wander over the spirit of romantic love.

‘We had to stop by here,’ Jack explained, ‘because, apparently, Storge is in New York and we need a portal there.’

‘Storge?’ North asked, looking confused. ‘Who is Storge?’

‘The spirit of family love,’ Eros told him nonchalantly. ‘And since I have no idea where Agape is, I told Delia to go find her best bud, Storge. And they are in NY city.’

‘Oh, Delia, I’m so sorry.’ Tooth was at Delia’s side immediately, cupping her face in her feathered hands, her big eyes filled with concern. ‘But I’m sure we’ll find her. We’ll just have to –’

‘It’s okay, Tooth, I’m alright.’ Delia was smiling up at Tooth, as good as she could with her cheeks smushed by the fairy. ‘I was a little down earlier, but Eros picked me back up.’

Jack’s stomach soured as Delia gestured affectionately to the flamboyant spirit. Eros picked up her gaze and winked at her, to which Delia returned another rolling of her eyes.

‘You need to go to… New York?’ Santa asked, scanning their faces as they nodded or, in Jack’s case, shrugged.

‘That’s what he says,’ Jack said, pointing his thumb at Eros.

Eros shot him a dark look. ‘I’m not lying, if you’re implying that.’

‘All I’m saying is that meeting you has gotten us nowhere so far.’ Jack crossed his arms and returned Eros’ angry gaze.

‘Ugh, not again!’ Delia complained and stepped between them. ‘I thought we’d settled this?’ She stared both of them down, and soon Jack found himself looking up to the ceiling, pretending to not even see Eros.

He clicked his tongue and brooded darkly.

‘Anyway, North,’ he said, still staring at the ceiling, ‘can you get us to New York?’

‘Ah, yes, that should not be problem.’ Jack could feel North’s eyes on him, but he was glad that Santa Clause didn’t say anything further.

‘Like, right now?’ Delia asked and when Jack looked at her from the corner of his eyes, he could practically see her glow from hope.

‘Ah, yes, but –’

‘Great, let’s do it then!’

‘Delia!’ Tooth intervened in her enthusiastic ramble. ‘Don’t you want to change your clothes first.

 _Oh no_.

Delia’s shoulders stiffened and her gaze drifted to the ground.

‘Tooth,’ she said very quietly. ‘My backpack… it got stolen.’

‘What do you mean?’ Tooth fluttered closer to the ground, lowering to Delia’s eye level as the girl looked up slowly.

‘I lost the teeth. I’m sorry.’ Delia’s voice was barely a whisper and Jack clenched his fists as a big, burning ball of guilt formed in his stomach.

‘You… lost your teeth?’ Tooth was also very quiet and the air around them seemed to stand still. Not even Eros dared intervene.

‘I’m sorry.’

Seeing Delia so heartbroken made Jack feel queasy, like he wanted to throw up and scream at the same time and he cursed himself for being unable to do anything.

‘But.’ Delia’s gaze strengthened, her eyes reigniting. ‘I don’t want to give up. I’m sure… I’m sure that they’ll come back to me eventually! They are a part of me, are they not?’ She looked up at Tooth with big, expectant eyes, and suddenly Tooth was smiling warmly.

‘Yes,’ she said gently, reaching out to Delia to softly stroke her cheek. ‘Yes they are. And you’re right. Me too, I am sure they will be returned to you, one way or the other…’

Now Delia was smiling, too, and the churning sensation in Jack’s stomach was slowly dissipating. _Yes_ , he thought, _they would find Delia’s teeth and they would rescue Jamie, and then the Delia and her father could live happily ever after_.

‘Now,’ Tooth said, voice cracking ever so slightly. ‘You still do need new clothes, some rest and, maybe, a snack?’ Just as she finished that sentence, Delia’s stomach rumbled loudly and Jack wondered at the strange noise. Spirits were never hungry, they lived off laughter and joy and of the beliefs of children. Food was never in Jack’s agenda, but he guessed he would have to remember it, now that Delia and he were a team. _And Eros_ , the nasty part of Jack’s brain insisted. _Eros is part of the team, too_. He brushed away that thought and turned to North.

‘While Delia’s eating we can start preparing for the trip,’ he said. ‘We’ll need anther bag, provisions for her, and maybe some kind of device for communication…?’

‘Ah, yes, of course…’ North mused, stroking his long white beard. ‘You can come with me. Jack, Eros.’ He beckoned them to follow them.

‘Wait, me?’ Eros looked disgruntled. ‘I’m just a guest here.’ He crossed his arms and pouted and Jack could feel another ball of heat building in his chest, though this sensation was very different from the one Delia gave him.

‘Why do you have to be so uncooperative?’ He demanded angrily.

Eros stared at him, eyes cold and unwavering. ‘I am not yours to command,’ he said. ‘I am a free spirit, and my own man. Or woman. Depends.’ He shrugged. ‘Anyway, the only one who can request anything of me is Delia.’ A small smile played along his lips as he turned his face to her. ‘Princess.’ Eros raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Jack grumbled in the back of his throat and had to hold back with every inch of his being to not smack Eros across the face. They didn’t have _time_ for his shenanigans.

Delia sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. ‘Eros, please, you’re being a bit ridiculous right now. Go, help them, do as North tells you.’

Jack felt concern rise in his stomach as he watched her, worn-out and tired, clearly hungry and overall in a somewhat miserable state, despite the illusion the dress and her get-up might weave over her. His hand reached out to stroke her cheek, but he caught it in the act, clenched his fingers, and brought it back to his side.

‘Delia, you should sleep,’ he said instead.

‘There’s no time for sleeping,’ she told him simply, looking at him with a sad smile on her face. ‘My dad’s in danger.’

Jack frowned. ‘We’re not going to be able to save him with you all worn-out like this. You need to eat, sleep…’ He implored.

‘And you prolly should take a nice hot shower, kiddo,’ Bunny added helpfully. ‘You ain’t an immortal spirit, pal.’

Delia sighed with content. ‘A hot shower…’ She looked like she was about to melt into the ground.

Eros stepped forward and lightly pushed her in Tooth’s direction. ‘Go, Delia, rest. Me and Frosty here will take care of the rest.’ He gestured towards Jack.

‘Who’re you calling Frosty?!’ Jack’s grip was hard against his staff and he could feel his powers crackling underneath his fingers.

Sandy stepped in almost immediately, looking at him, eyebrows raised. Jack groaned and rolled his eyes.

‘Yeah, yeah, alright…’ He looked at Eros and his stomach contracted as he suggested: ‘Truce? For now.’ It took all of his willpower to offer his hand to the other spirit.

Eros looked down at it, probably looking as disgusted as Jack felt, then his eyes flickered to Delia, who was watching them with an expression torn between surprise and hope and he reached out to shake Jack’s hand, gripping it very hard in the process.

‘Truce,’ he agreed and when Jack saw Delia smile he knew it had been worth it.

‘Alright,’ she murmured, ‘I guess if you guys insist I’ll rest up a little. _Only_ a little,’ she added when Jack was about to congratulate her with joy. ‘There’s a place we need to go.’

‘I know,’ Tooth said, fluttering beside Delia, and gently steering her away by the elbow. ‘But for now we’ll get you some food.’

Jack could only hear Delia mutter ‘Food,’ with a tone of absolute bliss as they both disappeared through the door.

‘Now we,’ North said, catching everyone else’s attention. ‘We’ll have to do preparation for your travel, no?’

Jack stood up straight, determination glinting in his eyes.

‘Let’s go!’


	8. For the Love of Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or: how to catch a Storge

Delia sighed, deeply, with content, as the hot water ran over her body. She’d been surprised when Tooth had shown her to the showers, she didn’t expect immortal spirits to bathe regularly. Tooth had just loved and told her that it wasn’t so much North that needed bathing, but the Yetis. Delia still smirked at the picture these words had created in her head. She held her face into the warm stream and contemplated her journey so far. Yes, she thought, she had no idea where Pitch held her father hostage, and she wasn’t sure if Storge would cooperate and help them find Agape, but she was hopeful again, wondering how her story would continue. Had someone told her three days ago where she would be right now and why, she would have called the mental institution right away. Now, she mused, going through a magical portal to New York to find the Guardian of Family Love seemed an all but normal prospect. With some hesitation Delia turned the shower off, stepped out and grabbed one of the very fluffy candy-cane striped towels that Tooth had laid out for her. She wrapped herself in the soft fabric and looked around. The large bathroom didn’t have any mirrors (which Eros would _hate_ , she presumed), but it was lit with large orbs that were filled with bodiless flames. It was magical and Delia reached out her hand to grab one of the orbs, but it floated away, just out of reach. So did all the other ones, when she attempted to take them between her fingers, and she finally gave up her endeavour. She sighed and put on the change of clothes Tooth had provided her with. Oddly enough, it was exactly what she’d worn before she’d changed into the dress earlier that night. At least it looked the same; the fabric was different, softer, and embraced her gently, leaving her skin with a silken feeling. It made Delia very aware of her tiredness and she desperately wished for a few hours of sleep, despite knowing well that she was under pressure to keep up. Travelling with immortal spirits wasn’t easy; they didn’t get hungry, or tired, or had any other human needs, and Delia had found it very difficult to speak up in front of Jack and Eros and ask for some food, and time to rest. Now she was ready to use the short time of peace she had before heading out to yet another adventure in the world of the Guardians. Tooth was waiting for her outside of the bathroom and smiled warmly, when Delia thanked her for the clothes.

‘It’s my pleasure,’ she replied.

Delia was beyond relieved that Tooth had forgiven her for loosing her teeth. Something about the Guardian of Memories made her reluctant to disappoint her in any way, and so admitting the loss of her very own memories to some public bathroom thief had been quite hard.

Tooth led her into a large bedroom, ready-made with a queen sized canopy bed, draped in red and green silk.

‘Do you need anything else?’ The fairy asked as Delia slipped under the covers, the silk like warm oil on her bare feet.

‘No, thank you, Tooth,’ Delia said, smiling at her. ‘Just… wake me up as soon as we’re ready to go, alright?’

Tooth smiled. ‘Got it.’ Then she slipped uncharacteristically quietly through the door.

The last two days had taken a toll on Delia, and she had barely realized how worn-out she’d really been, but as soon as her head hit the pillow she found her eyelids drooping and within seconds she was falling into a very deep, dreamless sleep.

Delia awoke to a clattering sound outside her door. The room itself was quiet, but a gentle light was streaming through the heavy curtains. Delia got out of bed and walked over to the large window to pull away the fabric. The scene outside shocked her; it was nothing unusual, snow, mountains… what made her heartbeat accelerate was the gleaming sun and the realisation that she had slept soundly through the night. She burst into the corridor and found some elves picking up oddly shaped toys at her feet, not even looking her in their busy tumbling. Delia jumped over them and turned to the right. If she wasn’t entirely wrong, she thought, this was the way to the Earth room where, no doubt, the Guardians were gathered as per usual. She raced all the way there, flinging the doors open widely and, panting, stared at the Guardians who were sitting around a large table, discussing any kind of thing that immortal spirits discussed in their free time. Jack was the first on his feet.

‘Delia,’ he exclaimed, approaching her quickly. ‘You’re awake.’

‘Yeah,’ she said darkly, scowling at him. ‘No thanks to you.’

He looked taken aback and stopped on the spot, not coming any closer. She must have been looking scary indeed.

Eros at the table snorted, and Delia now directed his rage at him, shutting him up effective immediately. ‘Or you,’ she grumbled. Then she threw her arms in the air. ‘Or any of you! What were you thinking?!’

‘Delia.’ North stood up and, where she usually found his calm demeanour help her cool down as well, this time her bad mood stayed, smouldering away in her stomach. ‘You needed sleep,’ Santa explained. ‘Rest. We took care of preparations, not to worry.’

‘Not to worry?!’ She asked, her voice going up a pitch as her hysteria grew. ‘ _Not to worry?!_ I asked you to wake me up as soon as we were ready. My dad –’

‘Still has time,’ Bunny intervened. The look on his face sobered her up almost immediately. Having a kangaroo-sized rabbit staring you down sternly has that kind of effect. ‘You’re of no use if you’re exhausted and emotional, kiddo,’ Bunny continued, his calm voice hiding the storm that was brewing behind his eyes. ‘Never forget that all ‘o us want to save Jamie. And we all want to make sure that you are safe as well. We did what we had to you keep you going. If you can’t help yaself, you’re of no help to anyone else.’

Bunny’s words hit her hard, as they were a mirror image of what Delia preached her father almost daily. _Dad, you have to take care of yourself_ , she would say as she brought him yet another cup of steaming hot cocoa. Jamie had the habit of immersing himself so completely in his art that he even forgot to eat. And now she seemed to have adopted this bad habit. She balled her hands to fists, then released them, looking up at Bunny. Her gaze was clear and unwavering as she apologised.

‘I’m sorry, you’re right. Of course you are. I guess lately I’ve just been a little… emotional.’

‘You think?’ Jack asked, a sarcastic edge to his voice, and Delia glared at him.

‘Not helping, Jack,’ she said.

He just shrugged. ‘Anyway, are we all good now? Ready to go?’

Delia took a deep breath to calm her nerves. This was their chance; find Storge, find Agape, defeat Pitch, rescue Jamie. Easy, right?

‘Ready,’ she told him.

‘Very good, very good…’ North mumbled cheerfully, approaching the two of them with a large brown backpack in his hands. ‘Here, Delia, for your travel.’

Delia took it and almost dropped the unexpectedly heavy bag. She peeked inside and saw that the backpack was overflowing with food, water and other necessities, such as a small first aid pouch. ‘North,’ she looked up in wonder, ‘where did you get all this?’

‘Ah, is nothing, my dear,’ he told her and gently patted her back. At least she assumed it was meant to be gentle as his hand almost pushed her forward.

She coughed and cleared her throat. ‘Thank you so much.’ Then she slipped the backpack over her shoulders.

‘And you’re sure you’ll be alright?’ Tooth fluttered towards her, looking worried and talking even faster than usual. ‘If you need anything else, just tell me, I’ll get it, and if you run into any trouble, don’t hesitate to call us for help, and if you ever –’

‘Tooth,’ Delia interrupted her. ‘Thank you, I’m sure we’ll all be perfectly all right.’ She smiled at the tooth fairy, and the spirit returned a hesitant smile.

A small current of golden sand passed in front of Delia’s nose, and she looked at Sandy, who’d been trying to get her attention. She walked over to him and he took her hand, patting it softly. He formed a four-leaved clover over his head; _Good Luck_.

‘Thank you,’ Delia said, feeling a warmth spread through her body that was akin to when her father took her into his gentle arms. ‘I promise,’ she began, then looked up at the others. ‘I promise I won’t return without my father.’

Eros approached her, cupping her face between two long-fingered hands. ‘And I promise,’ he said softly, ‘that I will help you find Agape, no matter what.’

Delia felt her face grow warmer, the intimate physical contact burned on her skin. But she also appreciated his words and so she smiled, trying hard to ignore Eros’ hands.

‘Thank you, Eros,’ she said. Before she could react any further to his gesture, she could feel her shoulders being yanked away from Eros. Being flipped around, she found Jack staring at her intently, both hands on her shoulders, bringing his face closer to hers.

‘And I,’ he pronounced loudly, then softened his voice, ‘I promise I’ll protect you. I won’t let any harm come to you. Ever.’

Delia’s heartbeat stopped. Time slowed down. Her mouth fell slightly open and she swallowed hard as an inexplicable heat threatened to swallow her up, headfirst. Jack’s eyes were determined, the promise made genuine and he looked at her with an expression she couldn’t quite identify. Conviction, care, and… something else. Before she could say anything, Bunny cleared his throat and the two of them flew apart like opposing magnets. Delia’s breath was heavy and her heart was racing in her chest, as she did her best to appear calm and collected. She tried not to look at Jack as she turned her full attention to Bunny.

‘Yes?’ She asked, and her voice was higher than she would have wished it to be. She cleared her throat and asked again. ‘Yes?’

‘Ready when you are,’ Bunny said and gestured to a portal that Delia hadn’t even realised had been opened.

‘Oh, yes, of course,’ she mumbled, embarrassed to have missed its creation.

‘Portal time,’ Eros said somewhat cheerfully as he grabbed Delia’s hand.

_Oh no. Not again._

‘Ah, no need for that,’ North said and forced their hands apart with a smile that appeared almost scary. Delia frowned.

‘But North –’ She began, only to be interrupted by Santa.

‘Is three-jump portal,’ he explained. ‘One for each.’

‘Oh,’ Delia made, looking back at the portal, heaving a relieved breath she wasn’t aware of holding. ‘Good.’

Eros rolled his eyes. ‘Alright.’ Then he stepped towards the portal. ‘You coming, Princess?’ He smirked, took one more step and disappeared into the void.

Delia took a deep breath, turned around once more, to face the other Guardians, careful to avoid Jack’s eyes. ‘See you soon,’ she said and stepped into the darkness.

…

Jack was about to enter the portal himself, when he felt North’s hand on his shoulder. He was afraid to get another lecture on getting too close to mortals, but he turned around anyway. If North had something to say, then Jack would face it head-on. To his surprise, North didn’t look stern, but kind, and concerned.

‘Jack,’ he said. ‘Bring her back safe.’

Jack looked him straight in the eyes and nodded curtly, then he turned around to follow Delia through the portal.

When he reached the other side he was immediately blinded by all the blinking, colourful lights that illuminated the streets of New York City even in daytime. People were bustling about left right and centre and Jack wondered about them. Delia’s sudden appearance in the crowd seemed to have gone unnoticed, and Jack and Eros, of course, were invisible to them. Jack tutted; _mortals_.

Delia was looking around the city with a mixed expression, amazement and disgust holding a balance on her face. Jack found that amusing, but he also remembered _why_ Delia hated Christmas, which drove a small thorn into his heart. He dismissed his thoughts and turned to Eros.

‘So,’ he said, ‘there we are: New York. Now what?’

Eros still looked at him with animosity, but ever since their agreed-upon truce, he at least addressed him civilly. ‘Storge loves the window displays in the big department stores. I think we’ll most likely find them in Saks Fifth Avenue.’

‘Say what now?’ Jack, who felt most comfortable in nature, where the wind could carry him through the cold winter air, had little appreciation for the humans’ weird traditions. Except snow days, of course. Everybody loves a good snow day.

Eros rolled his eyes, but obliged. ‘Saks. Right by Rockefeller Centre? A super luxury brand department store? Oh, you’re hopeless.’ He sighed, when Jack just shrugged.

‘Eros,’ Delia intervened and Jack thought she was going to add something to their discussion, but he just found her staring at the two of them talking with an expression he couldn’t quite place. ‘Have you always been this short?’ Her voice was small, almost inaudible, but Jack could still make out the words.

Jack frowned and looked at Eros. To his surprise, the Guardian of Romantic Love had indeed shrunken; he’d been fairly tall and lanky before and now, Jack registered (not without satisfaction), he had come down to about Jack’s height.

Eros had locked his gaze with Delia, quietly raising an eyebrow. There seemed to be some sort of silent conversation going on between the two of them and Jack was left feeling uncomfortable and excluded. To disperse the heavy feeling in his gut he stepped between the two.

‘Is that of any consequence right now?’ He asked, unable to completely cover the anger in his voice. ‘I thought we were here to find Storge.’

Delia looked dazed, disturbed, then she blinked rapidly and shook her head. ‘No, yes, I mean, of course we are,’ she blabbered and turned around.

Jack wondered if her ears had turned red or whether this was just an effect of the glowing Christmas decorations.

‘Saks,’ Delia murmured, looking around, presumably in an attempt to orientate herself in the stuffed streets. ‘We’re going to have to take the subway from here,’ she concluded.

Eros whistled. ‘You know your way around New York?’

Delia shrugged. ‘He usually takes me here once a year,’ she told him. Then her face contorted into an expression of disgust. ‘But never during Christmas time. Anyway, let’s go.’

She led the two of them to the next subway station and bought a ticket for herself. North had included some American Dollars in his provisions backpack, which Delia spent with the words, ‘I’ll have to pay him back when this is over.’

Jack doubted that North needed her to do so, or even would accept anything of the like from her, but he kept quiet. They took the subway to Rockefeller Centre, with Eros and Jack uncomfortably stuck between all the people on the line that could not see them. Delia focused on leaving at the right station, and soon they had arrived at their desired destination.

‘Whow,’ Jack made. The gigantic department store was located in a large, old building that itself looked rather uninviting to Jack. The Christmas display, however, would have made anyone a whining child on their mother’s hand. The building’s front was illuminated with giant snowflakes, and Jack very much appreciated the design. The windows were packed with toys and figures and scenes from various Christmas stories glowed in the colourful lighting. It was still daylight, but due to the time difference to the North Pole, it was just after three p.m. in New York, and it wouldn’t take long for the sun to disappear, making room for the dark of night, in which the display would show its full glamour.

‘Told ya you should know about Saks.’ Eros’ smug smile put a chink in his armour of admiration and Jack frowned.

‘Whatever.’

‘Guys, come on,’ Delia said. She had already made her way to the entrance and was waving them to follow her lead.

Inside, the department store was just as breathtaking as outside and Jack could feel the Christmas buzz like electricity on his skin. People were running around, looking for the perfect gift, dragging their children from one display to another, all the while keeping one eye on their watches. Why were New Yorkers always so busy? As he kept looking around Jack bumped into Delia, who had stopped in the centre of the ground floor, looking slightly lost.

‘How are we going to find Storge here?’ she asked, awe and desperation mixed in her voice.

Jack didn’t have an answer to that, but Eros stepped forward, lacing his fingers smoothly around Delia’s shoulder. Jack bit his tongue to keep himself from squeezing in between them.

‘Delia, my dear,’ Eros said. ‘This is _Storge_ , we’re talking about. Yes, the immortal Guardian of the Love of Family, maybe, but also an eternal child at heart. Where do you think they’ll be?’ Eros pointed at the orientation board by the escalator and as soon as Jack’s eye found the target, he knew. _Toys and Children’s Books_ were to be found on the third floor, according to the sign, and Delia’s face lit up. She chuckled as she slapped her own forehead.

‘Of course,’ she exclaimed happily. ‘The third floor it is.’

…

Delia rushed up the escalator, passing standing customers in her desire to reach the top even faster. She didn’t much notice whether Jack and Eros were following her, and little did she care. They knew where they had to go. When she reached the right floor, she almost stumbled over the end of the escalator in her hurried run. She caught her breath and looked around, Eros and Jack coming up just behind her.

‘And now?’ Jack asked, scowling. Delia empathised with the look of frustration on his face. The third floor, like all the other ones, was a giant maze of toys, lights, noise and distracting smells, like cotton candy and cinnamon buns.

‘Well,’ Eros stepped in front of her, trying to get his bearings in the heap of nearly overpowering impressions. ‘I suggest we split up and look for Storge.’

‘Split up?’ Delia felt uncomfortable at the thought of parting with her two companions, especially in a crowded place like this.

‘Just for a bit,’ Eros affirmed. ‘You take books, I search through stuffed toys and Frosty here,’ Jack snared, which Eros pointedly ignored, ‘will check out the rest.’

‘What?’ Jack protested. ‘That’s giving me the hardest job!’

‘You’re the one with the magic flying abilities, aren’t you?’ Eros asked.

Jack crossed his arms. ‘So?’

‘So you can check from above, which will be so much easier than walking around, looking for a small child in all this mess.’ Eros gestured around.

‘Hey,’ Delia intervened before they would get under each other’s skin again. ‘Look, if you want, Jack, I can help you out as soon as I’m done with the book section.’

Jack mustered her darkly. ‘That’s not what I was aiming for,’ he mumbled.

‘Okay.’ Delia rolled. ‘Do as you like, as long as we’re getting started soon.’

‘Sure, Princess.’ Eros shot her another one of his disarming smiles. ‘Let’s meet again here in, say,’ he glanced at his wristwatch, ‘an hour?’

Delia checked the time on hers (another gift of North’s) and nodded. ‘Alright.’

She watched as Eros marched of purposefully and Jack summoned the winds through the air conditioning shafts (an image she wouldn’t forget so soon), the turned around and strolled into the children’s books area. The large shelves were decorated with fairy lights and golden tinsel, and every few feet, a comfy reading area was spread generously in the corridor. The display made her think of the times she’d been to Saks with her father, only browsing, of course. Their little family didn’t have that kind of money. But they would walk along the tall corridors and imagine themselves as royalty, to whom a fifty dollar box of chocolates was a tiny expense. Jamie would take Delia to the book section, where she would choose any one of her favourites, usually one of Enid Blyton’s Adventure series. He would then take a much too small seat in one of the reading areas, wrap his arms around her as she snuggled into his lap and then listen to her reading the story out loud. The memory stung in Delia’s eyes, and she wiped at tears that were only just forming. Out of a feeling of nostalgia, she went to the Enid Blyton section and ran her fingers over the colourful collection of books, many of which still found themselves in her own bedroom.

‘Do you like Enid Blyton?’

Delia almost jumped and looked down to where the voice had come from. A young child, maybe eight or nine years old, was studying her curiously. The child was clutching several books between two small hands, waiting for her answer. She couldn’t tell whether the avid reader was a boy or a girl, it was hard to tell. Neither the pageboy cut, the elfin nose, large brown eyes, nor the baggy jeans and t-shirt gave away any clues to the child’s gender.

‘Yes, I love Enid Blyton,’ Delia answered, smiling warmly. ‘And you’re a fan of Rick Riordan, I see?’ She pointed at the books, which had turned out to be the entire Percy Jackson series.

‘He’s great!’ The child confirmed and showed of the bright orange t-shirt. On the chest area, a black Pegasus was visible, underlined with the words “Camp Half-Blood”.

‘He is,’ Delia agreed. She looked around, wondering if the child’s parents were around somewhere. Surely they wouldn’t leave such a young person to themselves? ‘Where are your mom and dad?’ she asked.

The child eyed her, face alert, but otherwise emotionless. ‘Not here.’

Taken aback, Delia crouched down, bringing herself to eye level with the kid. ‘You’ve lost your parents? Do you want me to help you find them?’ When the child didn’t react, Delia held out her hand. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to you. I’m Delia, and you?’

The child blinked at her once more, then shoved the books into Delia’s arms and stuck out their tongue. ‘Not telling you!’ And off they raced.

More out of reflex than concern, Delia hurried after the kid, cutting a tight corner as she shot out of the book section. She evaded bodies of people as she followed the mischievous bug, earning many disgruntled looks.

‘Hey, you!’ Delia called after the child, but the small body in front of her never stopped.

‘Delia?!’ Eros exclaimed, as she raced past him, ‘Did you find Storge?’

Delia had no time to explain, so she ignored him and continued her wild chase. She just hoped she wouldn’t be stopped by some store manager. The child entered the doll area and Delia followed hot on their heels. As she turned the next corner she realised the kid had run into a dead end, and Delia smirked.

‘Okay, that’s enough now, don’t you think?’

The child just glowered at her, quickly glanced around and, before Delia had reached the end of the aisle, began climbing the stuffed shelves.

‘Hey!’ Delia cried. ‘That’s dangerous!’

The kid had almost reached the top, climbing at an impressive speed, when something white and blue shot over them, grabbed them by the back of their shirt, and, though the kid was struggling heavily, set them down on the ground.

‘And what do you think you’re doing, huh?’ Jack asked as he examined his catch.

The kid made a face at him.

‘Delia!’ Eros shot around the corner and stopped short when he discovered the child in Jack’s custody. His face grew solemn and his next words sounded as if he’d chosen them with a lot of care. ‘Storge. How good to see you.’

Storge crossed their arms and legs as they sat down on the floor, glowering at Delia and her company.

‘Eros,’ they said. ‘Why are you here?’


	9. A Spirit's Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Guardians of Love reunite

Jack watched as Delia and Eros took a seat in Storge’s secret lair, one of their many hideouts, as Eros had explained. The Spirit of Family Love had used their magic on a forgotten storage room, had expanded the interior and built a cave that would have been paradise for every child. There was no furniture, colourful toys and cushions everywhere, a blanket cave in one corner, a TV and game station in the other. Strewn over the floor were packets of crisps, sweets and other unhealthy snacks that kids so adored and that adults usually limited for them. Storge, it seemed, didn’t have to worry about anyone’s scolding, so they just brought anything they wanted into their base. They had been far from cooperative, pouting and shooting Eros a few poisonous looks, but in the end, they had agreed to take them to their lair and hear Delia out. As with Eros, Storge had mustered Delia with intense curiosity after taking a proper look at her and seemed strangely fixated on her now. They had taken her hand and led her away, completely ignoring both Eros and Jack in the process and were now contentedly sitting on Delia’s lap, showing her their collection of Percy Jackson Merchandise which she looked at with true enthusiasm. Jack smirked. He had known that Delia was an avid reader, but he was unaware of the true scope of her passion for the written word. He could have watched her all day long, but they had a goal, and he had to take responsibility in getting them another step closer. He sat down beside Delia.

‘Storge,’ he began, ‘can you tell us where Agape is?’

Storge tensed, their wide grin disappearing from their face. They turned in Delia’s lap to gaze at Jack, eyes narrowed.

‘Why do you want to know?’

‘Because,’ said Delia before Jack could reply, ‘I need her to find my father.’

Storge looked up at her with a much kinder expression than he’d granted Jack. ‘Your father?’

‘M-hm.’ Delia nodded, eyes cast down on the ground. ‘Have you ever heard of Pitch Black?’ she asked them.

Storge blinked. ‘Sure,’ they replied. ‘He’s that horrible monster who tries to bring fear into children’s hearts.’

‘Yes,’ Delia agreed, ‘that’s him. Well, he’s not content with only scaring children anymore…’

‘What do you mean?’

Delia opened her mouth, but it seemed difficult for her to form the words that needed to be said, so Jack took over.

‘Many years ago, Delia’s father Jamie was the only child that still believed in us, the Guardians of Childhood, when Pitch had led all other children to give us up. Jamie was the last light, and the only reason we survived Pitch’s attack and triumphed over him, back then. Ever since then, it appears, Pitch has kept an eye on Jamie and his family and now he’s switched his target. He’s kidnapped Jamie to try and put fear into Delia’s heart.’

Storge frowned. ‘But, why? Isn’t it much easier to scare children? Isn’t that how he gains power?’

‘The Fears of a Teenager,’ Delia murmured and they all stared at her. She must have noticed the attention, because her head perked up and she finally met their eyes. ‘That’s what Pitch told me. That the fears of a teenager are much more powerful than those of a child, despite being more difficult to inflict. I guess that’s why he’s waited so long.’

‘Hm, so you have a special connection to the Guardians of Childhood?’ Storge mustered her thoughtfully. ‘Is that why you appear so… appealing to us?’ They looked at Eros for support, who smirked.

‘Appealing?’ Delia asked.

‘Appealing, indeed,’ Eros confirmed.

Jack tensed. Did that Spirit have to turn every situation into an opportunity to flirt with Delia?! Thankfully for Jack, she ignored Eros’ last comment and directed her reply at Storge.

‘I don’t know,’ she replied honestly. ‘Possibly.’ Then she grinned. ‘My father’s blood runs thick in me.’

Jack chuckled quietly, glad she hadn’t lost her sense of humour yet.

‘So, Storge,’ she continued. ‘Can you help us find Agape? According to the Man in the Moon,’ she paused to roll her eyes, ‘it’s the only way to free my father from Pitch’s imprisonment.’

Suddenly Storge’s mischievous grin disappeared to make way for a stony expression that looked far too mature on the young child’s face.

Delia seemed to have noticed the change as well, and she asked, ‘Storge? What’s wrong?’

‘I can’t help you.’

Jack watched Delia blanch and he jumped up. ‘What do you mean you can’t help us??’ He stared at them, then turned to glare at Eros. ‘You! You told us Storge would know where Agape is!’

‘Hey!’ Eros protested. ‘I said they were always the closest to her, and that they were the most probable to know where she’s now. I didn’t promise anything!’

Jack could feel his anger crackling between his fingertips. ‘Oh, yeah? Well, maybe you should have warned us beforehand so that Delia wouldn’t be so disappointed now!’

Now Eros got up as well, approaching Jack with long strides. Jack was glad that Eros had shrunken, because now he was eye to eye with him, instead of towering over the Guardian of Fun.

‘Listen, Frosty,’ he hissed. ‘I care about Delia as much as you do, don’t forget that. And, besides, if Storge doesn’t know, we’ll find a way to locate Agape by ourselves, Delia and I. You certainly don’t have to tag along.’

Jack sneered. ‘Oh, really? And how are you going to do that, huh? Do you have some kind of magical Agape radar that you haven’t told us about yet?’

‘I’ll –’

‘You won’t be able to find her!’

Jack and Eros were both startled, interrupting their argument when Storge cried out. They turned to face them and Jack was surprised to find Storge’s eyes swimming with tears.

‘You won’t be able to find her,’ they repeated quietly.

‘Why?’ Delia asked, voice almost inaudible. ‘Why won’t we find her, Storge?’

‘Because Agape is gone.’

…

‘…Gone?’ Delia’s mouth was dry as sand and her voice came raspy when she spoke.

Storge bit their lip, clearly trying to hold back tears. How ironic. Delia didn’t feel like crying at all, just hollow.

‘What happened?’ Eros asked. He looked shaken, more so than Delia had seen him before, unusually white, lips trembling.

In Delia’s lap, Storge balled their fists, staring down at their hands in despair.

‘Years ago, and don’t ask me how many,’ they said, ‘Agape… she fell in love.’

‘What?’ Eros’ voice was faint and Delia realised that he himself must have a hard time coping with these unbelievable news right now. ‘But… we don’t fall in love,’ he said. ‘We… don’t.’

Storge nodded. ‘You don’t. I don’t. Philia doesn’t. We all keep our distance, help humans out here and there, you know… think about it, Eros.’ They looked up at him. ‘You’re Romantic Love, hot, passionate, burning bright, then disappearing into ashes. You don’t get attached. Philia is Platonic Love, friends and wider family, longlasting, supportive, but, in the end, able to live independently from each other without feeling an immediate sense of loss. Me, Family Love, an eternal bond from the very first day, either forged by blood or by caring, strong, but loose at the same time. Parents have to let their children go when they grow up and children have to part with their parents at the end of their lives. It’s a cycle. All of us know how to let go. But Agape?’ Storge smiled sadly and Delia felt her heart contract painfully at the sight. ‘Unconditional Love is forever, always bright and burning, always close, the kind of bond where one is the second half of the other. There is no escape.’

Delia pondered that. She had never been in love, not truly, anyway, but she thought of her father, always that distant look in his eyes when he thought she couldn’t see, greeting her mother’s photograph in the mornings, not even considering dating someone else. Yes, she thought, if you’d found your Agape, there was no escape.

‘So… she met her other half?’ Jack asked and Delia jumped, so completely lost in her own thoughts that she’d forgotten all about his presence. She watched as he sat down once more, completely calm after his first outburst and confrontation with Eros.

Storge nodded. ‘Yes, although I don’t know his name. I was so angry when she told me.’ They laughed, but there was much pain in their voice. ‘Can you imagine? She told me she had fallen in love and was going to marry, giving up her Spirithood in the process! I shouted at her, pleaded with her to reconsider, to change her mind, but she was adamant. She had found her own Agape.’

Unconsciously, Delia wrapped her arms around Storge’s waist, looking for a way to console them, though she wasn’t sure if it had any effect. Storge’s trembling fingers came up to her wrists and held them gently. Delia could feel a warmth from the contact, different from Jack’s buzzing electricity of Eros’ blazing fire, much more gentle, slower, but so much more intense. She remembered Storge’s description of themselves. _An eternal love from the very first day_. It felt very much like she felt around her father and it left her nostalgic for his warmth.

‘So…’ Eros said, breaking the heavy silence that had formed around them. ‘Agape is just… gone?’

‘I don’t know if she herself is dead, you know, since humans break so easily… but her power, yes, it’s gone. There is no more Spirit of Unconditional Love.’

‘I can’t believe that.’ Eros’ knees seemed to give way as he sunk shakily to the ground. ‘She was always so… full of life. She loved bringing love to people.’

Storge granted him a small smile. ‘Yes. And she resented you for burning up her work sometimes.’

That made Eros smirk. ‘Heh. Some ships are meant to burst into flames. There’s no Agape without passion.’

Storge shrugged. ‘I’m not going to complain, you know, since passion is needed in the process of… making children… but, yeah, you did annoy her frequently.’

‘She sounds lovely,’ Delia murmured. She didn’t know why, but she had a strangely detailed vision of Agape in her mind. Gentle eyes, loving hugs and promises that lasted forever…

‘She was,’ Storge agreed. ‘And she always liked me best.’ They stuck their tongue out at Eros who snorted.

‘You trying to make me jealous?’ he asked. ‘You know I’m happy to live without strings.’

‘Uh-huh,’ Storge mocked and Delia chuckled.

‘Uh, guys, I don’t want to interrupt your happy family reunion,’ Jack suddenly interrupted. ‘But now that we know that Agape is… gone… we have a problem.’

His words immediately sobered Delia up. No Agape, no Jamie. She swallowed what felt like a giant, whole, chewing gum. She could feel the cold wash over her again and her hairs stood on ends. No Agape, no Jamie. They had gone to the North Pole, chased Eros, captured Storge, and now this. _No Agae, no Jamie_.

‘What should we do?’ she asked, eyes big and pleading as she looked at Jack. Her heart sunk when he returned her gaze with one of dread.

‘I don’t know.’

Delia shifted her gaze, first to Eros, then to Storge, but they both avoided her eyes, their earlier glee vanished into thin air.

‘But,’ she protested, unwilling to give up now that they’d gotten so far. ‘The Man in the Moon showed us a picture of Agape! He said we needed to find her!’

‘Maybe…’ Jack muttered. ‘Maybe he made a mistake.’

‘But it’s the Man in the Moon! I thought he was the one who gave you your powers!’

‘He’s very peculiar, Delia,’ Jack explained in a defeated tone. ‘None of us really have any idea what he –’

Just as he was about to finish his sentence, someone burst through the magical rabbit hole that was Storge’s front door. All four of them jumped as a young teenage girl of maybe fourteen years flew towards them, hand held high, fingers gripping something cylindrical. The girl had her dirty blonde hair tamed into a high ponytail and her soft brown eyes were glistening with excitement. She wore loose boyfriend jeans and a white t-shirt with a print that read:

                      **F** earless  
                    t **R** usted  
                 del **I** ghtful  
                      **E** ncouraging  
                 co **N** fident  
                     **D** ependable

‘Hey, Storge, old pal,’ she called out. ‘Check out what I’ve… got.’ She stopped short and stared at the assembly in surprise. ‘Who are you?’

…                                                                        

‘Philia!’ Storge had jumped to their feet and was now running up to their friend. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Er… I found –’ she glanced quickly at the cylinder in her hand, then shook her head. ‘Nevermind that, what’s going on here??’

Philia gestured around until her gaze got stuck on Eros. Her face contorted into a disgusted grimace.

‘What’s _he_ doing here?’

‘Nice to see you, too,’ Eros said flatly and Jack smirked at Philia’s reaction to him.

‘Believe me, _nice_ is not the adjective I had in mind,’ she retorted.

‘Um, hi.’ Delia had raised her hand slowly and was smiling at Philia.

The Spirit of Platonic Love blinked at her. ‘Hello.’

‘Philia,’ Eros said, ‘this is Delia. Delia, meet the master of the friendzone.’

Storge snorted as Philia’s eyebrows furrowed. ‘There’s nothing wrong with being just friends!’ she complained.

‘There is _everything_ wrong with being just friends,’ Eros corrected. ‘And you’re always so insistent on getting in my way.’

‘I wouldn’t if you weren’t always trying to turn everything you touch into a brief affair,’ Philia retorted, glowering at him.

Jack decided he liked her.

‘Pah!’ made Eros. ‘I’m not Agape now, am I?’

‘No, you aren’t,’ said Delia quietly and Eros tensed, then turned towards her with a guilty expression.

‘Delia, I wasn’t…’

But she just shook her head. ‘Nevermind.’

‘Alright,’ Philia said, stemming her hands onto her hips. ‘Would anyone, _not you_ ,’ she stared daggers at Eros, ‘explain what’s happening here?’ She looked at Storge. ‘A human,’ she nodded towards Delia, ‘and a Guardian of Childhood?’ This time, her eyes found Jack and he was surprised at how much careful hostility rested in them.

‘Don’t worry, Philia,’ Storge intervened. ‘They’re here on my invitation.’

In an instant, Philia relaxed and accepted Storge’s gestured offer to take a seat. She mustered Jack and Delia with intense curiosity.

‘So?’

Storge quickly filled her in on the information and the further they got in the story, the darker Philia’s expression became. Several times she gasped, murmured insults or put a caressing hand on Storge’s arms. Clearly, Philia was a very good listener. When Storge had finished, she looked up at Delia.

‘I’m truly sorry,’ she said and sounded so genuine Jack had all but forgotten about her earlier aversion towards them.

Delia granted her a faint smile. ‘Thank you.’

‘But, isn’t there anything we could do?’ she asked and, lost in her own thoughts, put the cylinder she was still holding on to, on the table. ‘Maybe we can help you find Pitch on our own…?’ She was now rolling the cylinder between her hands and the contents of the golden box clattered quietly.

‘Maybe…’ Storge said, then they blinked. ‘Philia, what do you have there?’

‘Oh, this?’ Philia held up the container. ‘It’s a box of teeth that the Tooth Fairy must have lost somewhere. I found it lying around and thought we could watch it, you know, amuse ourselves, but –’

Jack stared and Delia gasped loudly as they both recognised just what _exactly_ Philia was holding.

‘Philia,’ Delia asked, ‘where did you find these?’

‘Hm? Uh, funny story, in an abandoned public toilet in –’

‘Paris.’ Eros finished the sentence. Apparently he had caught on now as well.

Philia frowned at him with open hostility. ‘Yes. How did you know?’

‘They are mine.’

Everyone turned to look at Delia who was mustering the box of teeth with big eyes. Then she broke into laughter.

‘I can’t believe this! They actually returned! Just like Tooth told me.’ She clapped her hands.

‘They’re yours?’ Philia blinked at her, then studied the box a little closer. She found the little drawing of small Delia’s head on one end of the container and gasped quietly. She looked up at Delia, then back at the box, then back at her. ‘They are,’ she concluded, handing Delia the box without hesitation.

Delia took it carefully, cradling the container in her fingers as if she was handling delicate china.

‘Wow,’ she murmured. ‘I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see them again…’

‘That’s wonderful, Delia,’ Eros told her. ‘Now you can watch your past.’

‘Watch my past?’

‘They contain your memories, remember?’ Jack chimed in before Eros was able to collect any more brownie points.

Delia nodded. ‘So Tooth said.’

‘Well, you see, if you want to, you can relive even your earliest memories.’ He shuffled a bit closer to her to get a better look at the box. ‘You just have to touch right… here…’ His last word was just a murmur.

He had looked up at Delia and only then realised how close their faces were. He could see every tiny wrinkle around her eyes, every faint freckle on her nose. Jack’s heartbeat sped up and he wondered whether the blush on Delia’s cheeks was only a trick of the light. She stared at him, lips parted, eyes unwavering and he gulped. Then, suddenly, Delia was whisked away by Eros, who’d wrapped his arm around her shoulders and was pulling her close. Jack glared at him. _Give me a break_.

‘Yeah, so anyway,’ Eros said, even as Delia pointedly plucked his hand off her shoulders. ‘As I was _saying_ ,’ he raised an eyebrow at Jack, ‘you can watch what happened in your past.’

‘Hm,’ Delia made, now focused at her box of teeth again. ‘I don’t know, why should I?’

‘Maybe,’ Storge piped up and they all looked at them. ‘Maybe you could find out something useful. You know, see if Pitch visited you before, as a child, or why you have this strange effect on us.’ They gestured to themselves, Eros and Philia.

‘Storge’s right,’ Philia agreed. ‘Not just about this strange pull that you’re emanating.’ She gazed intently at Delia. ‘But also about your past. If Pitch is as fixated on your family as you believe, there might be another reason behind it, not just Jamie’s affiliation with the Guardians of Childhood.’ She glanced briefly at Jack. ‘You might even find a clue as to where Pitch is holding your father hostage.’

Delia became very quiet as her eyes stayed fixed on the box.

‘What’s wrong?’ Jack asked. She seemed unusually hesitant about reliving her memories.

She looked up at him, eyes wet. ‘Jack…’ she whispered. ‘I don’t know… I’m not sure I want to see it… again.’

Jack swallowed hard. He knew what she was talking about, knew that reliving that very moment of her past might be enough to break her in her current condition. But they barely had another option. They had no idea where Pitch held Jamie and Jack was also very suspicious of the Boogeyman’s shady motive. Was scaring a teenager really worth all of this?

He gazed at Delia and gently put his hands on hers, hoping that the cold didn’t make her flinch. But she kept her hands right where they were.

‘I know,’ Jack began, ‘that there are things in your childhood you’d rather not remember.’ His chest clenched painfully. No one would like to remember _that_. ‘And I know that it’s hard and that you’re scared. But, believe me when I say that this might be the only way to get closer to Jamie.’

Delia bit her lip.

‘And, Delia,’ he added. ‘When you wake up, I will be right here.’

She looked at him with big eyes and he wondered how someone so strong could seem so fragile. He knew of her strength, her determination and courage. But in this moment all he wanted to do, was take her in his arms and tell her she’d never have to suffer again. Alas, that would be a lie.

Someone cleared their throat and both Jack and Delia jumped. Jack gaped at Storge and felt his cheeks redden. He let his gaze wander to the ground, hoping his behaviour wasn’t all too suspicious.

‘So,’ Storge said, seemingly ignorant of the scene they’d just witnessed. ‘What are you going to do?’

Jack glanced at Delia and was glad to found the determined fire reignited in her eyes. She clenched her fingers around the box of teeth.

‘I’ll do it. I’ll revisit my past.’

**Author's Note:**

> I have originally published this on another fic site, but I want to start transferring all my works here, as I believe that AOO is the best alternative at the moment.
> 
> Please enjoy and comment :)


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